


Guardian Angel

by crayonbreakygal, wesfan1234 (crayonbreakygal)



Category: Angel - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-09-03
Updated: 2004-09-02
Packaged: 2017-10-18 14:30:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 75,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/189857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crayonbreakygal/pseuds/crayonbreakygal, https://archiveofourown.org/users/crayonbreakygal/pseuds/wesfan1234
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wesley gets the toughest job after dying. Did he make the right choice?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Visions

Title: Guardian Angel

Rating: PG13 for now. I'm not sure later on in the story. Angst abounds now too.

Summary: Wesley gets the toughest job after dying. Did he make the right choice?

Pairings: Hey, I haven't decided what this fic is like. Don't even know if there will be any romance at all.

Disclaimer: The boss owns all. And boy does it hurt still. But they're his toys to play with.

Note: This takes place after season five of Angel. Was Wes's scene dying one of the best ever? I must have cried through the whole episode. But we know that good old Joss wouldn't keep him down for long. The boss wanted to hurt us, and it worked. So I wanted to continue the story a bit, see where it takes me. And if there are ever any other movies, miniseries, etc., watcherman better be in them. I don't care about the rest (well, maybe I do, but not right at this moment).

Chapter One – Visions

Faith's limbs shook from exertion. Wanting to keep her mind occupied, she chose to beat up on a training dummy. By the time she was done with it, it'd need some serious work to fix it. She hadn't turned on the lights in the small gym.

The building had once been a factory of some sort, then a ballet studio. The new Council had bought the thing for a steal, fixing it up for the new wave of slayers inhabiting the newest Hellmouth, Cleveland. At least this city had four seasons. Faith liked the fact that it actually became cold. Not as cold as Boston could be, but it was enough. Today though, it had been hot and muggy. Summers looked to be a drag, she thought. Might drive in the bad guys to the air conditioning for a little while, she hoped.

She often trained solo, at night with no one to watch. Hell, she didn't need a watcher any more, or so she thought. Sometimes, she wished she had one, if just to be close to some other human. No one here actually belonged to her, not even Robin. She'd never have it like Buffy did with Giles. Just wasn't in the cards for her. Sort of hoping for a miracle didn't make her old watcher appear any faster. No, he was happy fighting evil in Los Angeles, while she sweated it out in Middle America. They'd never connect. Not that it wasn't partially her fault. She hadn't gone back to see Wes after Sunnydale was no more, even though she had promised.

Training sometimes cleared her mind, which right then was a big bonus. Over the past couple of days, her brain had been crazed. Like maybe there was some apocalypse on the way and no one had told her. The dreams she'd been having didn't let her sleep more than a couple of hours each night at the most. It had to stop. She didn't want to get sloppy out in the field.

It was late, very late in the evening, no one around to bother her. Just her, pounding away. She thought about going out to patrol just to hit something for real. But there were other slayers now. She didn't always have to be on alert. Lots of slayers to take care of the bad guys.

Everyone was either asleep or on patrol. So when the pain hit her, no one was there to watch her crumble. The pain was so intense, searing her all the way down to her toes, that it was all she could do to stay conscious.

It was too much like the time Buffy had used Faith's own knife to gut her, right before the Mayor had tried to take over Sunnydale and the world. Not like she hadn't deserved it. She was surprised that Buffy hadn't aimed for the heart instead.

Trying to crawl toward the office put her in more pain. She looked for blood, but found none. Was there something wrong that she had never known about?

Finally making it into the office, she tried reaching for the phone on the desk to call someone. Robin had his cell phone on, going on patrol with a couple of the newer girls. But before she could reach up to pull it down, her breath was completely knocked out of her. Her head hit the ground hard.

Struggling to get a breath into her lungs, her vision began to blur. She kept thinking, "I am not fucking dying right now. Fight this. Fight this."

It was when her mind was on the edge of consciousness that the vision hit her. It didn't hurt like Cordy's visions had, not a migraine to end all migraines. No, she was in enough pain throughout the rest of her body to not even notice if that was the case.

Knife, blood, fire, pain. Vision, wish, tears, relief, slowed breathing, death. A single tear escaped Faith's eye before she went blessedly under.

* * *

Angel's body screamed at him to stop. Demons upon demons were piled in the alley. The battle still raged, but if it didn't end soon, a stake was certain to find its way into his undead heart, or even a sharp sword to his neck. Maybe that was for the best though.

He'd caused all of this destruction. Afterwards, there would be no after battle banter, eggs and toast, coffee and tea. There would only be his dead friends staring at him, telling him what a big mistake he'd made.

Sunrise would be coming in a couple of hours anyway, so maybe he'd just stand there and burn. Probably like he should have done so many years ago on that hill in Sunnydale. Buffy had stopped him then. She couldn't now.

Spike went flying by, yelling like a banshee at some scaly, red thing that was on him quickly. Spike, he'd been the first to volunteer for this suicide mission. Dying not once, but twice had given him some sort of bravado Angel didn't understand until now. He'd beaten death back so many times, his luck still held out. Just like Angel's had so many times before. And well, it just didn't suck to die again. He'd welcome it, just like Angel.

Wes had been the second to raise his hand. The man had a death wish and hadn't even known it. This had definitely been a suicide mission for the ex-watcher. He'd known it, Wes had known it. The nod they had given each other right before going off on each of their separate missions had said it all. So much said in one small look. Wes could say so much with just his eyes, it was a wonder the man ever survived as long as he did.

So long, be seeing you in hell. Angel knew that was the last time he would ever see his best friend alive. Wes and Cordy had meant the world to him. And he had destroyed them, taken them both down with him. His unbeating heart ached more than any time in his 250 odd years. He hoped they both were in a better place, away from the pain, away from him. That's all he could ask. They'd both sacrificed so much in their short lives. Never again would he ask someone to do that. The price was too great.

* * *

"Hey, are you OK?" a far off voice asked.

People usually didn't ask you if you're OK if you're dead. Faith opened her eyes to find one of the baby slayers staring at her. Lauren was just fifteen, tiny even by Faith's standards, but packed a wallop of a punch. The girl would make a good slayer someday.

"What happened? What time is it?" Faith groaned as she sat up gingerly. Her gut was sore, her head pounded, but everything seemed intact.

"I found you on the floor, passed out. It's about six in the morning."

Faith saw the lightening sky outside the window. She'd been out for almost five hours. Climbing to her feet, she wobbled a bit, but Lauren helped her up the rest of the way. Man, whatever happened to me, hit me like a ton of bricks, she thought.

Then she remembered the vision and picked up the phone. The first number she dialed was out of service. She tried another number, hearing the distinct accent on the other end, but no one to really answer. She still left a message, just in case.

"It's me. Whatever you do, fucking call me on my cell phone. There's trouble." She hung up the phone in a hurry.

"Faith, you need to sit down."

Can't sit down. Faith ran to her room, slightly weaving along the way. Throwing a few clothes in a duffel bag, she reached for her weapons, and then threw them down, remembering that she had to get on an airplane. No weapons. She grabbed a couple of toiletries, and slung the bag over her shoulder.

"Tell Robin I had an emergency. I have to go."

"He's asleep. Let me find him."

"I can't wait. I have to go now," Faith yelled as she ran for the office again. She grabbed the credit card that they used for emergencies and scrambled to the door.

"Where are you going, Faith?"

"LA."

* * *

Wesley sat up looking around at his surroundings. No longer was he in a big hall with a demon sticking a very big knife in his stomach. A peaceful field of flowers danced around in the light breeze. The sun shone bright overhead. The sky was so blue, it hurt his eyes for a moment. The quilt he sat on was old, soft and well used.

He was dead, that he knew. It hadn't taken long for him to die after Vail had gutted him. He had thought that it would have been more painful, somewhat like the gunshot wound from two years earlier. All he could feel was the blood slowly draining the life from his body.

And Illyria's tears hitting his body. Oh, he knew it was she that grieved him. That she had taken on Fred's persona just to please him in those last few moments of life. For that, he was grateful. Illyria had finally felt some strong human emotion. His guidance had not been for naught.

So he just sat, breathing in the clean, fresh scent. His mind was somewhat at peace. Fred was not here, he concluded. He at least would not have to live in the world where she had been obliterated out of existence.

"Damn you, Wes. Damn you," a voice softly spoke behind him. Only one person would ever talk to him that way.

He turned to see a woman in a flowing sundress. The sun overhead blocked her face in shadow, but he'd know her even if he were blind. Standing to face her, he was happy that she was with him, wherever here was.

"Cordelia."

She launched herself into his arms, sobbing.

"You stupid jerk. Why?" came blubbering out between sobs.

He just held her tight until her crying jag seemed to slow somewhat, which took quite a while. Cordy seemed real. Her body was soft and warm. She was crying real tears. And he could tell by her body language she was mad at him for something. Things never change.

Finally she backed away slightly to look into his eyes. Hers were swollen, red around the rims. He hated to make her cry. Hating the way she looked at him now, like he'd failed somehow. Also because she was building a full head of steam, ready to take it out on him for whatever transgression he had committed.

"That was so not supposed to happen, you dumbass." Same old Cordelia. Then she hit him on the shoulder, hard.

"Oww. That hurt. Why did you hit me?"

"You, you." She took another swing at him, this time connecting with his jaw.

"Oww," she was the one to cry this time, holding her hand. "Out of practice."

Wesley rubbed his jaw, thinking that if this was heaven, then why did his jaw hurt so much. "Why did you hit me, I ask again?"

"Because you big, stupid macho moron guy, thinking you could take on that demon with your little fireball. That was just so stupid and you know it. You have much better mojo than that."

"You know."

"Of course. I had a front row seat. Which by the way is not over with, but I had to come here instead. At this point, he could get staked for all I care." Another set of tears fell from her lovely eyes.

"Angel still at it?"

"Yeah. He is. And you could have been there to help."

"Not like I was hoping to die."

"Yes, you were. You stupid, stupid man." Cordelia started crying, again.

"Shoulda known she'd do this to ya," another voice said behind him, Irish lilt melodious in the breeze.

"Oh, you're just as bad. Go away."

"Wanna make sure you don't hurt the lad is all. Greeted me the same way when she arrived here. Got me in the stomach."

Cordelia left Wes's embrace, but not before placing a quick kiss on his cheek. Turning around, he saw a shorter man, black hair, dancing light blue eyes, and a lop-sided grin showing on his pale face. He had on a Hawaiian shirt and khaki shorts.

"You look familiar," Wesley said.

"Oh, Doyle. My name's Doyle. You must be the infamous Wesley. You're all she could talk about."

Cordelia snorted. "In your dreams, Wes."

"You obviously know about the woman's temper too." Wes could see Cordy shoot the Irishman a dagger-edged look.

Doyle just laughed. "That I do."

"So what is this place?" Wesley couldn't believe they were actually in heaven. He'd done too many unsavory things in his life for that to happen.

"Well, it's not heaven, if that's what you're thinking," Cordelia told him.

Good. That was a good thing, wasn't it?

"I wouldn't have been able to hit you otherwise."

"We're not in hell either," Doyle pointed out. "You kind of have to earn you're way in one way or another. But you my friend were brought here for a reason."

Wesley looked at Cordelia and Doyle like he wanted to crawl under a rock and die. Oh, he was already dead, so that would not due. "What reason?"

"Well, you remember that watching thing you did?" Cordelia asked.

"Which did not turn out all that well, Cordy."

"Yeah, we'll just forget about that. This is sort of similar."

"In what way?" He was just not in the mood for any of this.

"We could show you," Cordelia commented. Wesley sighed, tiredly. "But not right away. You need to rest. I have to go and finish something. Then we'll talk."

Both Cordelia and Doyle waved and blinked out of the picture. Off in the distance, Wesley could see a structure. Might as well explore, he thought. The two could probably find him wherever he ended up. They had told him to rest and that's what he intended to do.


	2. I'll Rest When I'm Dead

Chapter Two – I'll Rest When I'm Dead

Faith's heart almost pounded out of her chest as she approached the hotel. Traveling for most of the day through airports had made her cranky and stiff. But action was the least thought in her mind. She had made it around the police barriers easily. Since it was almost midnight, the carnage before her glowed in the moonlight.

No way the authorities would be able to sweep this one under the carpet. Destruction and bodies went on for blocks. Which meant the vision she had would have already happened. She hoped that it hadn't. But in her heart, she somehow just knew.

Stepping into the familiar courtyard, Faith's senses told her that no one lurked in front of her. Her way was clear. But inside, who knew.

The door hung off its hinges at an odd angle, like someone had ripped it off to get inside. But inside the huge lobby, it was very dark. Groping for a light switch, Faith's hand finally touched it and flicked them all on. Light illuminated the once dark interior. Everything seemed intact. Sheets covered the furniture. Dust covered every surface. No one had been here in some time.

Until she looked down, she thought the place had been abandoned. On the floor was a trail of blood. Now that stood out. She followed it, stopping at the round couch in the center of the room. The other side facing away from the door was covered in it. From there the blood hadn't traveled. Had someone died there?

Faith slowly stepped over to the office. The door was slightly ajar, so she tapped it open with her foot. Never can be too careful. Bloody bandages covered the floor. Someone had some serious battle wounds. Must have been Angel, she mused. But where was he?

The noise outside the office was so faint, any normal human would not have heard it. But something or someone was out there. Faith quietly strode to the open office door and peaked through. Standing in the middle of the lobby was someone in full leather and blue hair. And she looked a hell of a lot like that skinny beanpole Fred.

For some odd reason, Faith knew that this wasn't Fred. The icy blue eyes on this creature held an air of arrogance even Angel would have a hard time matching. The woman held a short, brown leather coat over her arm. Faith wondered why the so-not-Fred stood stock still in the middle of a deserted lobby. Probably wondered who had turned on the lights.

Even though she sensed danger coming from the blue-haired woman, Faith still needed to find Angel, and quickly. So she stepped out of the office in full view, with her hands up to show that she meant no harm.

The thing shifted her attention to Faith, turning her head to the side, like she was studying her.

"Hey, I'm lookin' for Angel." Really friendly like. "Have you seen him?"

She slowly approached the strange-looking blue creature. The thing really did look like Fred. Spooky.

"You are human." It spoke. Totally different voice from the Texan girl she had met a little over a year ago.

"Yeah. I'm a friend of Angel's. Did something happen here?"

The creature in front of her stared down at the jacket and looked as if she was on the verge of crying. "I do not know where the other half-breed is. My mission was not successful."

"I don't understand. I just need to know what happened."

Would the creature tell her the story? Each minute that passed almost put Faith over the edge.

"I could not save him. They did not leave the body." A tear escaped the creature.

Faith noticed the rents in the woman's leather, wounds on her neck and forehead standing out. She slowly sank down on the round couch, still clutching the jacket like a security blanket.

"You're hurt. I can see that. Maybe I can help?" Faith inched toward her, until those icy-blue eyes halted her progress.

"No one can help me now. My guide is gone. The battle is finished."

Faith was getting nowhere fast with this creature. What came barreling down the stairs next shocked her even more. Spike in all his glory, coat in tatters, but still flapping around him like a cloak.

"What happened?" he screamed.

The blue-haired thing clutched the jacket even tighter. He's dead, Faith kept telling herself over and over. Buffy had seen it happen. To save the world and close the Hellmouth in Sunnydale, Spike's sacrifice had lit up the sky that day.

"Spike?" was all that she could manage to get out.

"Faith, what are you doing here?"

But there he was, standing in front of her in the lobby of the Hyperion, blood dripping from his scalp.

"You're bleeding."

Spike wiped the blood away. His hair, instead of that platinum blonde he loved so much, was crusted with blood and other unidentified goo. "I'll live. Illyria, what happened? Gunn?"

"Is still alive, for now."

"Good. That's good," Spike said, swaying a little.

"Spike, I know I'm coming in the middle of this, but what the hell is going on?"

He swayed more and fell to one knee. "You wouldn't mind, luv, if I just took a breather right here. Can't see straight."

Faith ran into the office and grabbed as many clean bandages as she could find. Racing to him, she placed one on the back of his head, holding it firm and steady. Damn, I thought vampires didn't bleed this much.

"I have to get back upstairs," Spike whispered.

"Why?" Faith's hands shook. No one was giving her answers.

"Angel's up there. Needs something. I can't quite remember." Spike's eyes rolled into the back of his head and he collapsed in a heap. Faith mostly caught him before his head hit the hard floor.

"Could you help me out here? What did he call you?" Faith called to the blue-haired leather sitting on the couch.

"Illyria."

"Snap out of it. I need your help," Faith yelled as she lowered Spike the rest of the way to the floor. Illyria complied, still holding the jacket. "Put that down. I need you to hold this to help stop the bleeding."

As Illyria gently laid the jacket down, Faith noticed the dark stains on it. Bloodstains, she was sure. Did it belong to Gunn?

"Tell me where Angel is? Upstairs? Please."

"He is . . . on the second floor of this building, I think." Illyria looked confused.

"Take care of him. He's depending on you." Illyria looked at her like she didn't want anyone to depend on her.

Faith bounded up the stairs. Each door she came to, she peered inside. On the sixth one, she finally hit paydirt. She could see Angel lying on a bed, shirt off, covered in blood and demon guts from head to toe. And he shivered like he was cold. Vampires were always cold. Something else was wrong.

"Angel?" she called out.

No answer.

As she neared the bed, she saw all the bloodied rags on the floor next to it. It looked like Spike had been trying to clean out the wound on the other vampire's back. The skin had been sliced open, all the way down to the bone. He'd need lots and lots of stitches to close that one.

"Spike," came out in a whisper from the bed.

"It's Faith," she said as she kneeled down to the level of the bed in front of Angel's face.

"Faith?" he called, eyes glazed over.

She could see the blood on his face too. A cut above his eyebrow, one on his chin. His ear was covered in something she wasn't sure. Faith tried to hold in the tears. She needed to be strong, proactive. She just didn't know where to start.

"I'm here. Just tell me what to do."

Explanations would have to wait a while.

"Spike went to find Illyria," Angel mumbled.

"Downstairs. He passed out. Vicious-looking head wound. But he'll live."

Angel closed his eyes in pain.

"What do I do first?"

"He, help Spike."

"You look worse. Like hell."

"Feel like it." Angel laughed a little, splitting his lip again where it had been opened up before.

"I'm going to find something to stitch you up. Just stay here."

"Not going anywhere," the vampire groaned back.

Faith ran back downstairs. Illyria still held the bandage to Spike's head. She had not moved, not replaced the dripping piece of cloth. Faith took the soaked bandage from Illyria's hands and placed another one on the gash. The bleeding had at least slowed some.

"You have to keep up the pressure to stop the bleeding."

Illyria looked at her, confused. "I did not know. These half-breeds are so much more fragile than I thought."

"Angel," Spike whispered.

This was so new. Spike was actually concerned about his sire. From what she had gleaned from Buffy, the two despised each other. Something must have changed over the past year.

"I'm helping him, Spike. Just let Illyria take care of you." Faith turned to the office again to gather the supplies she would need to stitch Angel's back.

"Blue's here?" Spike called, eyes closed. He must mean the blue-haired creature, that from what Faith could tell, was definitely not human. Her hands were just too cold.

"She's here, Spike. Where's Wes?" She hated to ask. But she'd been running around the last fifteen minutes ready to scream his name until she was well, literally, blue in the face.

Illyria noticeably flinched, but didn't take her hands away from Spike.

"You are the dark-haired slayer," Illyria pointed out, like she knew Faith.

"Yeah. That's me."

"We do not need your assistance."

Spike passed out again, not voicing his opinion.

"Don't think you have a choice, lady." Faith's arms trembled with the supplies that she gathered from the office. "Besides, you're not exactly useful, are you?"

The icy-blue eyes glared at Faith like she could cut her in two with just a look. "Do not be insolent with me, human."

"I don't have time for this. Take care of Spike. I'll be back down to fix his head."

Faith really did not like Illyria at all. Too much posturing, no action. But now Angel was on her mind. He needed her full attention.

Rushing back up the stairs, Faith ran to Angel's room, finding him in the same position as before. She'd never done any extensive patching up of anyone. Hoping that stitches were somehow the same as fixing a tear in clothing, she set about to clean and fix the large gash on his back.

It took her what seemed like hours to clean, stitch and bandage Angel sufficiently enough so she felt comfortable at least rolling him to his side. Angel groaned in pain from the action.

"Sorry. I need to check out the front."

"Be careful," he managed to grunt out under clenched teeth.

Faith could see the scorch marks on Angel's torso, like something had taken a blowtorch to it. She really didn't know what the hell to do with those.

"You still with me?" Angel shook his head slightly. "I don't know what else to do."

"It's OK. It's better. Take care of Spike. Gunn?"

"The blue chick downstairs said he was still alive, but that was hours ago."

Angel sighed in relief.

"Where is he, Angel? No one will give me an answer."

Damn it, the man started crying. "I'm sorry Faith. So sorry. It's all my fault. I should never have done this. Things should have gone differently."

Faith had known already what the conclusion was. Had felt it down to her bones. Just like she had when her first watcher had died.

"Was it quick?" It hadn't been quick for her first watcher. She'd been tortured to death by the hands of Kakistos, an old and scary vampire.

"I wasn't there."

"You mean he died alone?" That was even worse. The man had died without his friends around him.

"Illyria found him. She was supposed to retrieve his body."

Which hadn't happened, Faith surmised. She'd have to find out from Illyria why she hadn't retrieved Wes's body. Another thing on her list to do. God, she needed help with all this.

* * *

Wesley stepped into the cottage after knocking and getting no answer. A fire was set in the fireplace, tea already steaming on a table by a comfortable chair. This so obviously looked like the place he was supposed to stay and wait for Cordelia to come back for him. He could put his feet up and just sit.

He hadn't felt this calm and peaceful in years, maybe ever. Like he was done with the nonsense of saving the world from destruction. Being a mere human in the mist of beings like Angel had taken its toll on his mind and body. There were only so many times he could cheat death before his time was finally up.

His heart still ached from the loss of Fred. She had been so pure and innocent in the world, to be taken away so quickly after they had finally found each other. And the cruel punishment of her body being used by Illyria was too much for him to bear. One minute he wanted to try and accept Illyria for what she was and the next minute he still tried to find a way to bring Fred back.

Fred dying hadn't directly been Illyria's fault. No, that had been Knox's for choosing Fred in the first place. This wasn't a place that Knox would ever end up, may he rot in hell.

But every time he looked at Illyria, he thought of what could have been. He was never meant to be happy in life. For one moment, he was. Maybe that's all that people got. Their one shot, and if they blew it, well, you didn't get another one.

Wesley settled down in the chair and poured himself a cup of tea. The familiar routine made him comfortable and quite groggy. Thank goodness he wasn't coated in the blood that had quickly drained from his body. It wouldn't have made his rest all that comfortable.

Cordelia had told him he should rest. He felt weary down to his bones at that moment. Putting his head back, he peacefully drifted off to sleep. If this was what heaven could be like, then it would be so wonderful.


	3. Dreaming

Chapter Three – Dreaming

Someone yelling at him awoke Wesley with a start. Opening his eyes, he discovered that he was no longer in the quaint cottage, but a dark room, with only one light overhead. He sat in a chair, not tied down, but not being able to move. Was this a dream? Not exactly like any dream he had before, if he didn't count the nightmares that had occurred shortly after Faith had tortured him.

"Could be a dream?" Cordelia said as she walked over to him. "I just wonder if I'd been around if you would have snapped out of that insanity phase of yours. You had so many phases while you were alive."

"I'm not sure to what you're referring."

"Oh. You freaking out and leaving Angel to his own devices."

"Not like I had much of a choice in the matter."

Cordelia stood before him much like she was in Sunnydale. Long, flowing tresses, cheerleader uniform, tanned legs that went on forever. The girl that had first attracted him. A little bit of innocence and a whole lot of woman. She'd always conveyed that, until the visions had become too much for her to handle. By then she just looked tired of it all.

That was when he was in his stick-up-his-ass watcher phase. If he had been any other phase in his life subsequently, he would have had the nerve to see what was under that uniform. But now she just giggled at him, and flashed him that toothy smile that always lit up a room.

"You always had a choice. You always listened to the wrong people."

"My life is not on display for you to shred apart."

"Oh, really. Since this is your dream, not mine, buster, you might want to listen up."

"What do you want?" he asked, sarcastically.

"No, I think the question is, what do you want?" Cordelia circled him in the chair, sliding her hand down the back of his neck.

"Why am I dreaming? I'm dead. Remember that?" Her hands sent shivers up and down his spine.

"Yeah, you're dead alright. I seemed to remember the only thing you were good at was getting knocked out." That hand and especially that voice did not belong to Cordy. "Oh wait. You were also good at following orders," the woman said, bending down to speak softly in his ear.

"You know, I'm not sure why you're here, Buffy." This must be his trying to get a spine phase that he had tried on just before leaving Sunnydale.

"Oh, because you failed with me. Where Giles was the perfect watcher, you fell apart with the responsibility."

"You tried," a voice off in the distance piped up.

Buffy came around the front of him, putting her hands on his shoulders. Her slender frame was dressed in a tight white top and jeans. The all-American girl. Giles had already developed a rapport with the girl so when he had arrived in Sunnydale, his watcher status had already been doomed before he had even started.

Her attachment to her family and friends had confused him because he had been taught that slayers needed to work in secret. Then he had realized that was why Buffy was so good at her calling. Family was all-important when you fought evil. Gave you something to live for. Gave you the spark to go on when things went bad.

Buffy straddled his lap, leaning in to whisper in his ear. "So you developed another persona, becoming Research Guy."

Buffy's voice melded back into Cordelia's. The Cordelia he met when he had first arrived in Los Angeles. She sat where Buffy had vacated. Pulling back to look into his eyes, she placed her hand to his cheek and held it there. Her perfume was intoxicating. Her back was exposed because of that damned revealing top she always wore along with those low-rise pants that hugged every curve. Thank God he never had the nerve to do something about it.

"Rogue Demon Hunter Guy didn't work out too well, now did it? But the three of us made a great team. Things never work out the way you want, do they?"

His time right after joining Angel and Cordelia was happy. He had a place in the world. He was the brain, Cordelia was the beauty and Angel was the brawn, to use a cliché. Which was why he never courted Cordelia. She was family.

"Cordelia, I miss that time."

"So do I. I sometimes wish we could go back there. Before the visions took their toll. Before Angel slept with Darla. Before you took Connor."

Wesley closed his eyes at the memories, good and bad.

"You lost your way. I almost had you." Oh no, not her. Wasn't she in hell? Lilah snickered when he opened his eyes. "Hey, your dream, not mine."

"What do you want, Lilah?" he asked her, putting as much venom into his voice as possible.

"I wanted you to join me, but you didn't listen. All those people ever gave you was grief and misery. I don't know why you even tolerated being around them."

His depressed, drinking, screwing evil phase. Those phases hadn't just popped out of nowhere. He'd been through one or another at times in his life. Not all at the same time though. He tried to dislodge Lilah, but still couldn't move from his solitary chair.

"Humiliating, isn't it? To be tied to the rules, to your upbringing, to what's right. Could have freed you from that?" He could feel her breath against his cheek, then his neck.

"Don't listen to them," a different voice called from a distance.

"But you stayed with the vampire. Look what it got you."

Wesley couldn't believe what Lilah was saying. Unfortunately, it was all true. It had caused him heartache to follow the rules and fight for good.

"Even though you stuck with it, your friends turned on ya." Fred, please don't let it be Fred. "You couldn't trust 'em with the prophecy. You messed up big time. Don't think he ever forgave you for that one. Never could trust ya again."

"She's lying," the other voice said, more insistent this time.

"No one ever trusted ya. Family," Fred said, pulling away to look him in the eye, "really does suck. What's it like to have the girl of your dreams because of a lie?"

"What?"

"If our memories hadn't been erased, well, do ya think I woulda even considered ya a nice enough, safe enough guy? Hell, I only went out with Charles because he was safe. You were never safe. Always with that edge to you. I saw it."

Fred's mouth was less than an inch from his. "Edge?" he asked.

"Thank goodness no vamp ever got to you, 'cause I think you'd been even more famous than Angelus."

"Fred, it's not you. You'd never say this." Maybe she wouldn't, he thought.

"Yeah, cause I burned up when that thing took me over, right?"

"I tried to stop it."

"It's not your fault, Wes," the other, somehow familiar voice told him, moving closer.

"But you didn't. Did ya love the blue-haired bitch too? You always were a little fickle in my book. If you really loved me, ya woulda killed it."

Maybe Fred was right. He probably should have killed Illyria when he had the chance, when he took most of her power away from her. But he still couldn't get past the fact that it wasn't Illyria's fault that she had been released from the Well.

"Don't ya like me?" Fred drawled, her Texan accent thick.

"You know how much I loved you."

"Love, obsession. Didn't think ya knew the difference. I was never perfect, you silly."

"You were, for me."

"That sphere made me seem perfect. You smashed it, knowing that things would change." Fred briefly flashed as Illyria, but then came back as the Fred he knew.

"It doesn't matter what you did, Wes." That voice would not be quiet. It kept contradicting anything any of the women said about him.

"She never shuts up, does she?" Fred sneered at the voice.

"Do you have a point, Fred?" Wesley asked impatiently.

"Oh, a point. Yeah, I do. Choose wisely."

"Choose what? What choice do I have to make?"

"Between heaven and hell," Fred concluded, bringing her lips to his. He closed his eyes to soak it all in. It felt so good to feel her against him one more time. At one point in time, he would have called this heaven. So sweet, Fred was. He had never wanted to hurt her, ever.

The pressure on his mouth changed somewhat. The lips melded to his seemed hungrier, more insistent. Different. He still hadn't opened his eyes yet, thinking to prolong the moment for just a short while. When he opened his mouth to protest the increasing pressure, an even hotter mouth and tongue swallowed up any sound. No way had Fred ever kissed like this. And his arms no longer were invisibly held down.

The now free arms snaked around to hold tight. He had never been able to share anything but a few kisses with Fred because their time had been so short. But the woman pressing up against him was definitely not Fred. Much too well endowed than Fred's slight figure.

It felt good to feel something again. Anything but disgust and loneliness. Things that Illyria had made him feel every time he looked at her. He certainly had a good idea who was grinding her hips against his, who was almost devouring him whole. The only other person he had known that had felt the loneliness in her life. But this was a dream. Nothing could hurt in a dream. All his dreams lately had been filled with death. At least in this one he felt desire.

To be able to sink into that oblivion again, like he had with Lilah, should have been welcome. Someone to share his pain. When he tore his mouth away to move down her throat, she did the unexpected. She pushed him away, breaking contact and shoving his chair he was sitting in onto the floor.

Now that did hurt.

"What were you doing?" Faith asked him as he sat sprawled on the floor.

"What? It's just a dream," he told her. "Didn't you get the memo? Bash the Dead Man Day."

The look of shock on her face was unexpected too.

"You didn't know."

"No, not exactly. Where am I?"

Faith couldn't be dead too, Wesley's mind screamed. "Are you . . . ?"

"Dead? Not the last time I checked."

"Good. Didn't want to be responsible for getting anyone else killed."

"What they all said, it's not true."

"Unfortunately, it is."

"Dammit, get off your high horse, and stop taking the blame for everything bad that has happened. All of those people made their own choices. Get it through your fucking head."

Wesley sat with his head hanging between his knees. Dejected, he certainly couldn't figure out what Faith was supposed to show him. She crouched down on her knees, to his level.

"What?" he sneered at her.

The look on her face worried him. "Tell me what to do? I can't do this alone. I can't fix it alone."

Wesley snorted. "You want my help? The biggest screw-up in the Watchers' Council history."

"Hey, I think all the guys who got themselves blown up by a bunch of guys with no eyes, pretty much looks worse than anything you ever did."

"Not a comfort."

"That's not why I'm here. I don't know why I'm here. Everyone's pretty bad off. I don't know what to do." Faith wrung her hands. Wesley could see her distress.

"You're not a ghost." No, something else was up with her. Other than Buffy, who had died more than once anyway, she was the only one of the women who had appeared that was still alive.

"Hell no."

"Then this isn't a dream?"

In the wink of an eye, Wesley was back in the cozy cottage, tea still hot beside him. Did he just experience a dream or was someone trying to tell him something? None of it made any sense to his scrambled brain.


	4. Open Wounds

Chapter Four – Open Wounds

Someone shook Faith awake. It had taken years for her to not punch first, ask questions later when people did that. Opening her eyes, she was momentarily blinded by the stark lighting of a hospital.

"You can see your brother now, miss," the nurse instructed her.

She'd come to the hospital to check on Gunn. It wasn't exactly at Angel's insistence since he was being an asshole, but because she cared what happened to the fighter. The only way she'd be able to see him was to tell them she was his half-sister. No one questioned her claim. But she had to wait while they had run more tests on him. So she curled up in a chair for a quick nap.

The nightmares really had to go away. When they happened, she never woke up rested. One night of uninterrupted sleep would be perfect for her right then. Not dreams of her dead watcher attacking the only decent sleep she'd been able to catch in a long time.

Faith stretched, and then followed the nurse to Gunn's room.

"How did you know he was here? The woman who brought him didn't give us any information about how this happened. Just a name."

"He wasn't home. I just searched everywhere. This is the last place I decided to look."

"The police are going to want to talk to him when he wakes up." The nurse pushed open the door to Gunn's room. Faith was shocked by how many tubes and machines were hooked up to him.

"How bad is he?"

Memories flooded her, remembering what it was like to wake up with tubes in her arms. Faith was afraid to get too close. Afraid she might somehow hurt him just by being there.

"You can touch him. I'll go get the doctor so he can talk to you."

The nurse scooted out before Faith could ask any more questions. She placed her shaking hand over his. "Hey, big man. Angel wanted me to see how you were doing."

Machines beeped, but no sound came from Gunn.

"Coma. I know how those go. It'll be all right. Hey, I woke up and look at me."

"Hello," a man in a white coat said as he walked through the door. "I'm Dr. Morton."

"How is he?"

"His body went through a lot."

"Just give it to me straight."

"OK. He'd been stabbed repeatedly. Lost a significant amount of blood. There's some nerve damage. Until he wakes up, we're not going to be able to assess . . . ."

"He's in a coma, then?"

"Yes, which is the best thing for him at the moment."

"Nerve damage? Does that mean he won't be able to walk or something?"

"As I said, we don't know exactly." Gunn didn't have slayer healing like she did. He was just a normal human. And it had taken her eight months to heal. "If you would like to sit with him for a while?"

"Yeah, that'd be nice."

Faith pulled up a chair and sat next to him, just holding his hand. He was the only human connection left of Angel's people. Angel needed him desperately to pull out of this.

"You can't die, you know. Not your time. Just hold on."

At least if he did die, she'd try to be here for him. He'd die peacefully, unlike Wesley.

Faith stayed for another hour, building up the courage to go back to the hotel. The three beings left there were such a mess, it had been nice to sit quietly with Gunn for company. But she needed to go back. She'd stitched the two vampires worst wounds together. They would need supplies though to get them through the worst of it. And she also didn't know if there were still demons lurking around, ready to take revenge. She was never the planner, always the one to go bash heads. Being the appointed leader sucked.

On the way back, she found a butcher that would give her some blood. She also grabbed some food for herself. She had no idea what Illyria ate, if she did at all. Faith just wished she knew what in the world the blue-haired creature was. It was always nice to know how to crush your opponent.

As she entered the lobby, Faith noticed that the door had been semi-fixed. Either Illyria figured out how a door was put together or one of the vampires was up and about.

"Hello," she called out, not wanting to be a surprise.

"In here," Spike yelled from the office.

Since he had been in a little better shape, he was the logical one to be walking around. She noticed that he had cleaned up most of the blood in the lobby, just in case someone walked in, including removing the bloodstained covering from the round sofa. Entering the office, Spike still moved slowly, wincing every so often.

"You should have left it all. I got some supplies."

"Yeah." Spike touched his head, feeling for hair that was now gone. Faith had to shave it off to stitch his head wound.

A much different Spike stood before her. The bleached-blonde hair had covered dark roots. This shorn cut made his blue eyes stand out even more, although at the moment they kind of had a dull sheen to them.

"Got some blood for you."

"Angel needs it more."

"I can't do this alone, Spike. You both need to eat. Besides, you can barely stand. Let me call in reinforcements."

Faith pulled out her cell phone to dial. Spike stopped her with a hand, closing the phone for her.

"Don't."

"Whatever happened here, we need help."

Spike laughed. "Just like when Illyria was taking over Fred. Called for help then. Never came."

"If I had known."

"Yeah. Seems that it's business as usual for those wankers. Your kind needs help, we come running. We ask to save one girl, people tell us to fuck off."

Faith hadn't known any of this. She hadn't known that they had asked for help and were turned away.

"I'm here now, Spike. Please tell me what happened."

"Gunn OK?"

"Alive. Coma. Doctor said it's a good thing. Give his body time to heal."

Spike sat down on the couch with a thump, rubbing his head.

"Spike, you were gone. How did you come back?"

"I see Andrew didn't open his little mouth?"

"No. He knew?"

"Yeah."

Faith sat down beside the vampire, wanting the whole story of the past year.

"That amulet. Someone, we're thinking maybe Lindsey McDonald, brought me back to annoy Peaches. You see, Angel and company had taken over Evil Incorporated."

"Wolfram and Hart?" Now that was unbelievable. Angel despised the place.

"Yeah, I know. Workin' from the inside and all that. I was a ghost for a while. Then they upped the stakes, made me corporeal. Probably decided that I hadn't done my job well enough. Didn't think I'd join forces with the big poof. He kinda grows on you, like a fungus."

Faith wanted to scream at him to stay on topic, but she could tell he just needed to vent.

"Oh boy. Did they have our number? Challenged those bloody losers to a fight."

"Is that what happened? Because, hey, not hiding all that carnage out there. Lots of talk in town."

"Kinda hard to hide it when you're fighting for your life."

Faith kept waiting for someone to start asking questions around the hotel. No one official had visited yet.

"Start from the beginning."

"Seems that the cheerleader, before she bit the bucket, gave Angel a vision on how to take down this big, bad evil group called The Circle of the Black Thorn."

"So he put a plan in place?"

"Yeah, the stupid wanker. Angelus, best planner in the world. Angel, couldn't plan to save his life on a sunny day. But he got their attention. Got some invitation to join them in fact. He figured out their strengths and weaknesses, how to take them down."

"All on his own?"

"Apparently. Brought us in at the last moment. So we took the leaders down."

"It worked. Right?"

"Sort of. Let's just say that evil has taken a holiday, at least for now. The price though. I'm not sure I'd be willin' to pay it."

"What do you mean?"

"Faith, you and I, we've always been sort of loners. Never really fit in. I watched them, when Cordelia came back that one day. They all fit together. Well-oiled machine. Reminded me of something."

"Yeah. Buffy and her little gang."

Spike shook his head in acknowledgement. "They're all gone now. Cordelia, Wes, Fred, some guy named Doyle. I'm not sure I could sacrifice them all. One reason why I went all 'Great Balls of Fire' in Sunnyhell."

"Why?"

"Because I knew that you all would live on."

"And now Angel has to without them."

"Yeah."

Faith finished cleaning up while Spike downed his blood in record time. She could see why Angel would be devastated, but Spike had gotten close to the bunch. He was feeling the effects too.

"Spike, that Illyria chick?" Faith asked, as they made sure no other blood was present in the lobby.

"An Old One. Walked the earth a long time ago. Some idiot at the evil law firm released her to take over Fred. Nothing we could do. Angel even stooped and asked Giles for help."

"And I'm thinkin' that was a no go."

"Nope." Spike sighed, sitting down to hold his head. "Watcher boy kind of lost his marbles after that. Drinking, shooting people. Thought Angel was gonna have to send him off to the funny farm. Seems that he had a thing for the girl."

Faith never knew that Wesley liked Fred at all. He hadn't been too nice to anyone while she was in Los Angeles the last time. They had focused on Angelus.

"Kill anyone?" Faith wondered out loud. She'd seen that sadistic side of him when they had gone hunting for Angelus.

"Yeah. The idiot, Knox. Deserved it. I would have snapped the guy's neck if given half the chance," Spike growled.

Did Spike have feelings for the girl also?

"I should have stayed. Or at least come back. I said that I would."

"You did what you could. No one else even cared."

"I'm still calling Giles though. Not for help."

"Then why?"

"Tell him that I quit."

"Can't exactly not be a slayer anymore, luv."

"Doesn't seem to matter anymore, now does it?"

"Suit yourself."

"You went to see the human?" Illyria quietly came down the stairs, this time dressed in regular clothes. Her body still held the blue glow and eyes still turned Faith's skin cold. Faith jumped a little at her voice. She hadn't seen her since that first encounter.

"Alive, still."

"That pleases me."

"Blue, I need to take a look at your wounds."

"Half-breed, I am adequate."

Faith didn't understand why Spike was being pleasant with the creature. She wanted to avoid the bitch at all costs. Even though she really hadn't known Fred all that well, she figured since Wes had a thing for her she must have been pretty special.

"I'll see about Angel," Faith said, pointing up the stairs.

"Wounds, now Blue. Even if I have to sit on you."

Most humans would sputter at the way Spike was talking. Illyria obeyed him, following him into the inner office.

Faith grabbed a container of blood for Angel. The thought of him drinking it in front of her didn't make her squeamish. It's the thought of him not drinking that had her worried. Tapping lightly on his door, Faith got no response. She slowly inched her way into the room. One small light was on by the bed, nothing more. Angel's familiar shape did not grace the bed. Matter of fact, she didn't see him anywhere.

"Angel?" she spoke.

"Go away," a voice came from a dark corner.

"I brought you some blood."

Faith came closer to the voice. As her eyes adjusted to the gloom, she picked out the dark figure in a chair.

"You should be in bed. Gather your strength."

"Leave."

Faith laughed a little. The vampire wanted to wallow in self-pity. That was a first. Usually he was the one helping from everything she had ever seen of him.

"I can't. Seems there's this stubborn streak in me. Comes out when dumbass vampires are too stupid to know any better."

Faith slowly eased herself down on the end of the bed. She figured she might be there for a while, so might as well be comfortable.

"I know you're not big on conversation, but we need to talk." She heard Angel sigh angrily. "I got the Reader's Digest version of what happened from Spike. Just wanted to hear your side."

"Not much to say. I fucked up."

Great, the man never used that word. That was her word. And she was the one usually screwing up. Angel never did.

"How so? I mean, if you want to talk about it."

Angel leaned forward in the chair, eyes turning yellow, fangs showing. "Not really."

So, he was trying to intimidate her? "Down boy. No talking about you then."

Angel leaned back into the shadows.

"I checked on Gunn. He's in a coma, which according to his doctor is a good thing. If you want, I'll go see him again tomorrow, or for as long as it takes. Should I patrol? Not sure what to do, really."

"Shut up and go away."

Faith squeezed her eyes closed, trying to control her anger. She desperately wanted to help. She also figured that Angel wouldn't accept it in the beginning.

"There's too much to do here."

"Go back to your Hellmouth and your watchers and your slayer friends."

"I can't do that. Besides, I'm probably going to be out of a job anyway. Right after I break a couple of bones in Giles's body for being such a fucking idiot for not helping."

"Don't blame him."

"Sorry. I already do."

Faith set the blood down on a table, and then backed out of the room slowly, hoping that Angel might call her back. He didn't. He sat in the dark. Not just being his broody self, she thought. This was a man with nothing to live for. And there wasn't much for her to do to change that at the moment.


	5. Dead ExWatcher Demon Hunter

Chapter Five – Dead Ex-Watcher Demon Hunter

A clock gonged off in the distance, startling Wesley awake from his dreamless sleep. It had been so nice to rest without visions of death and destruction dancing through his head.

"Hey, you're awake," Doyle said from behind him.

Wesley stretched his kinked up muscles. Having slept in a chair wasn't the most comfortable position to rest, but it had worked for him. Being dead was exhausting.

"How long have you been here?" he asked the Irishman, who was seated at a table directly behind him.

"Not long. Cordelia figured you needed to sleep. I'm not one to argue with her."

The man certainly did know Cordy well. Every time Wesley had sparred with her, it usually ended badly.

"Indeed."

"Probably wondering why I'm here."

"I suppose the thought did cross my mind."

"Take a seat, my friend." Doyle pushed out a chair for Wesley to join him at the table.

"Are you going to explain to me why I'm here?"

"You're a smart one, you are. I see why Angel depended on ya so much. See, the two of us, not much of a team. My only claim to fame was the visions."

"Important piece."

"Yeah. It was at that."

"He misses you."

"He does? I figured he was glad to be rid of me. Really did drive him up the wall sometimes."

"Don't worry, Cordelia filled that role for you nicely."

The two men chuckled at the thought.

"You didn't have any designs on the girl, did you?"

"Not really. She scared the living daylights out of me at first."

"Lot of woman there."

"Yes. I do suppose you're right."

"Sorry. Just had to ask. You're sort of her type, tall, broody kind of guy. So, the reason you're here."

Wesley wished he wasn't there. Could hell be any worse than this? Maybe. He was sure Lilah could show him around.

"No games," Wesley informed the man across from him.

"No. You don't look like a man who likes them. You have some unfinished business to attend to."

Didn't they realize he was finished? No more work from the dead ex-watcher demon hunter.

"And you have a choice to make."

There it was again, he thought. Just like that pseudo-dream he had. In the dream Fred said he needed to make the right choice. What if he refused to choose?

"What if I said no?"

"Not one of the options unfortunately."

So they were going to force him to make a choice.

"Besides, when you see, don't think it'll be that hard."

Wesley sighed in frustration. "What?" he snapped.

"I need to explain."

"Just give me the choices," Wesley growled back.

"There are rules."

"Right. There are always rules."

"But when have you followed them?"

"My patience."

"Is wearing thin. I can tell, you bloody Englishman." Now Doyle was getting annoyed with him.

"Actually, it's gone. Now tell me," Wesley yelled.

"Here's your choices," Doyle gave in, showing Wesley what he meant.

Before Doyle's hands, four people appeared, faces floating in the air like magic.

"Choose," Doyle commanded.

"What do you need for me to do?"

"You're the one being the prick. You figure it out."

"God, I leave you two alone for five minutes and you're already at each other's throats. Wes, he's just trying to help."

Cordy had entered the cottage through the front door, looking as beautiful and young as ever. Her crop top and loose skirt emphasized her curvy figure. He hoped she stayed that way. That's how he wanted to remember her, young and full of life.

"That's a very fetching outfit, I must say."

Doyle glared at Wesley.

"Oh, stuff it, Wes. You're just trying to piss Doyle off."

"And it worked, I see. I'm not lying either."

Doyle's pale face was turning beet red from anger and a touch of embarrassment.

"Why did I ever think a guy with an accent was sexy? I'm surrounded by buffoons."

Wesley snorted, while Doyle just glared more.

"Didn't you tell him?" Cordy asked Doyle.

"No, since all he could say to me was piss off."

"Never did."

"It was implied."

Cordelia pointed her finger at both of them. "Geez louise, you guys. All we're asking of you is to watch."

Nothing was ever that simple in his mind.

"Well, and maybe a little guidance." Cordy spread two fingers an inch apart to make her point.

"Guardian angel then?" Wesley questioned.

"We like to call ourselves guidance counselors. Much less dead sounding and all," Doyle pointed out.

"You sound like a teacher."

"He was one before the vision thingy," Cordelia added.

"You? Teaching impressionable youth?"

"Yeah. I did, for a time. What's it to ya?"

"Whatever, you two. Focus. And Wes, you're sort of right. But we can't prevent anything from happening, just give little suggestions."

"Keep whomever out of trouble?"

As Wesley looked at the four floating pictures, he thought to himself, yeah good luck on that one. All four drew trouble in spades.

"Well, you can't physically interfere or anything. Non-corporeal."

"Whom do I choose?" he asked the two.

"Ha. Don't ask me. I didn't narrow the selection down. Besides, there's already enough on my plate. I wouldn't touch any of these with a ten foot pole." Cordelia was right about that.

"So none of these people have guardian angels?"

"Nope," Cordelia answered.

"Couldn't you at least have picked people I didn't know?"

"Not the way it works, hon. Too steep a learning curve." That figures, he thought.

Which one should he choose? One who would annoy him to death? Oh wait, already dead. One who wouldn't care and do whatever he wanted? One who was just too heartbreaking to look at on a daily basis? The last one was just a wild card, volatile one day, who knew what the next. At least she wouldn't annoy him, maybe would listen, and wouldn't break his heart in two with every look.

"Her," he pointed to the last picture.

"Whoa. Are you sure?" Cordy asked with worry etched on her face.

His dream said to make the right choice. What more could he lose? What more could she lose?

"The others need your help and guidance just as equally," Doyle added.

"I've made my decision."

Cordelia looked at him with a little hurt in her eyes. "You sure? She . . . ."

"I know what she did, Cordy. I'll be fine."

"The man knows his mind."

"Yeah right. This is Wes we're talking about here."

"Cordelia," he groaned at her.

"I'm not interfering. Just wouldn't be my choice."

"You'd choose the boy," Doyle said, sneering.

"Hey. Xander, same age as me. Not exactly a boy now. But he would annoy the hell out of me. So no."

"I'm not rehashing this. Just tell me what to do." And Cordelia thought that Xander was annoying.

"Here," Doyle said, throwing a big book at him.

"Don't tell me."

"Yup. Instruction manual. Tells you what you can and can't do."

Wesley groaned, putting his head between his hands. "Now why am I agreeing to do this?"

"We help the hopeless," Doyle answered.

"Helpless," Cordelia corrected.

The four that were pictured were neither helpless nor hopeless in his mind.

"Same thing," Doyle finished. Cordelia growled at him.

So instead of Cordelia's ex, the second vampire with a soul, an old one who inhabited his lost love's body, he chose the one person most like himself.

"Oh, boy, do you have your work cut out for you, buster." Cordelia threw up her hands in exasperation.

"What she means is, it'll be hard, but in the end, it's worth it," Doyle told him.

"Did either one of you have one?"

Doyle pointed to Cordelia.

"You're dead, Cordelia," Wesley chuckled.

"Yeah, so definitely read the damn book," Cordelia said, glaring at Doyle.

* * *

"Why?" Faith yelled into the phone.

"Because they are working for one of the most evil enterprises known to mankind."

"Were, Giles. Were."

If Faith could have reached through the phone right now and project herself three thousand miles, she would have strangled the watcher.

"So a girl died because of it."

"What?" Giles said, surprised.

"Yeah. They're all dead. Couldn't you guys feel it? No, wait. The only person you're worried about is Queen Buffy. Well, you can tell her this for me. He's broken this time. I'll be lucky if he hasn't staked himself already."

"Faith, calm down," Giles implored through the phone.

"Too late."

"What happened?"

"Notice a down swing in evil lately? Have Angel to thank for that. Evil Incorporated just got their clocks cleaned. But you know what? Angel's team is no more."

"But Faith."

Faith was on a roll. She hadn't had time to cry, to grieve, or to even breathe for goodness sake. Too busy trying to hold it together over the past week had taken a toll on her patience.

"I quit. I'm tired of choosing sides. One more thing?"

"Faith, you're not thinking rationally."

"When have I ever. Tell Mr. Wyndam-Pryce Senior that if I ever see his sorry ass, he's going down."

"I don't under. . . ."

Faith didn't let the watcher finish. She was done with them all.

"That'll tell 'em," Spike said from the doorway of the office. "Percy's father was the biggest prick around."

"You met him?"

"Yeah. Almost ate him back in '68. Thinkin' I'm regrettin' that decision."

Faith sat down on the couch, legs shaking too much from the confrontation with Giles. How much did Spike know? Hell, he'd only worked with Wes for a year and the ex-watcher was not big on the sharing.

"What do you know?"

"Someone, I'm guessing daddy-o himself, sent an identical cyborg to try and take control of Angel."

"Last year?"

"Yeah. Percy ended up shootin' the damn thing, over and over again. Man had issues. Thought the cyborg was his real father."

Faith had heard rumors that Wes's father was a piece of work. And she also remembered the scars she had seen before she had added her own to the man's body.

"So, what'll we do now?"

"Beats me. I never was good at leadin'."

"Me neither. Maybe we should figure out what to do with Wes's stuff, seein' as he had all that stuff, you know."

"Yeah. No body yet. Checked again."

"Maybe I'll check it out." Faith had wanted to see where Wes had lived his last moments.

"Take Illyria with you then."

"I'm not going near that thing," Faith added.

Spike sat down next to Faith on the couch. "Faith, she grieves too. More than you know."

"She's not human."

"Neither am I. And I'm sittin' here today because of her. She cared for the man, though I'm not sure why, since he was pretty psycho there at the end."

"She drove him crazy," Faith asked, voice catching a little at the end.

"No one drives us crazy. Did it to himself. He couldn't separate Fred from Illyria. Couldn't come to terms with it. In the end, it just ate him up inside."

Faith understood. Standing on the edge of insanity, being pulled back was not an easy option. Angel had done that for her. He obviously hadn't bothered with Wes.

"Angel didn't notice this?"

"Nah. Big poof was too busy taking down the big bads."

"Casualties of war." Spike shook his head in agreement. "What are you gonna do?"

"Find some boxes. I'm sure the ponce had more books than we'll know what to do with."

"No, I mean after. Are you sticking around?"

"Got nowhere to go."

"Yeah. Me either."


	6. The Diaries

Chapter Six – The Diaries

A fine layer of dust covered the surfaces in Wesley's apartment. Faith had only been there once, right after the Beast had beaten her into a bloody pulp. She hadn't paid that much attention to the surroundings other than to note how many damn books the man had. Her watcher was much worse than Giles.

"I wonder if Angel will want all these books?" Faith asked as she stepped through the door. Spike stood in the hallway, not wanting to enter. "He's dead, remember."

"Yeah. Just thought that maybe it wasn't true and I'd be bounced."

God, Faith would never get used to the fact that Spike actually had a soul and that he did care for the humans around him. Spike stepped over the threshold after her.

"Guess it's true then."

The final confirmation of what she knew to be true. Faith swallowed, staring all around her. She had no idea where to start. "This is gonna take a while."

"Yup," Spike answered, looking around too.

Faith could still smell Wesley. Just like he'd been in the room. She could smell his aftershave, mingling with the books, the smell of brewing tea, and even a hint of whiskey. It was amazing how much she could remember from her very brief visit. He wasn't there to comfort her now like he had been. He'd patched her up, given her a pep talk of sorts and sent her on her way to capture Angelus. So long ago in her memory.

"I don't know if I can do this," Faith told the vampire.

"We'll get some help. Illyria."

"No. Keep her away. I'll stay here for a while. Angel's not too keen on seein' me right now."

Faith turned on a lamp to ward off the shadows in the room. It was already evening. The day had flown by so fast. Visiting Gunn, getting a new door to the hotel installed. And not once over the course of the week had Faith wanted to patrol. She hadn't wanted to hit anything, save Angel.

"I'll go fetch the boxes from the car," Spike said, turning to leave.

"We'll need more. Lots more."

Faith finally convinced Spike to leave a couple of hours later, after all the boxes they had brought were full. They'd have to hire someone to move all the stuff. She had some money saved, so hiring someone wasn't a problem.

Faith just didn't want the responsibility. She had just wanted to do her job and go home satisfied that she'd done some good in the world. Now she didn't care whether she picked up a stake again, ever.

Maybe, once she grieved, that feeling would pass and she'd be her old self again. But there would still be that hole in her heart, in her world. Nothing would ever be the same.

As she sat down on the worn couch, she contemplated food. All of the food in the frig was trashed, having been in there too long. Her body was too tired to run and go get something. Her wallet too lean at the moment to order in. So she sat, watching the dust motes dance in the air.

Sitting on the coffee table was a stack of mail. It wasn't what she and Spike had brought in, so Wesley must have left it there not long before the final battle. Flipping through it, she found bills, flyers, and a card. You could always tell cards because of the size. Not worried that anyone would complain if she opened it or not, because the man was dead anyway, she ripped it down the side. As she pulled it out, the words birthday appeared before her.

"Dammit," she said out loud.

It had been his birthday and no one knew. The card must be from his mother. It looked like one a mother would buy. She hadn't contacted anyone in his family, other than to tell Giles what had happened. She wondered if the watcher would tell them for her. Having no idea even how to reach them because there was no return address, she opened the card, seeing the cursive 'Your Mother' signed at the bottom. That was all that was written on the inside. Even his mother didn't seem care about him enough to even write the word love before the name.

Faith wondered if anyone cared about the ex-watcher save Angel and his gang. To go through life with no one to care whether you lived or died was hard, she knew. She'd lived that life for way too long. And sometimes she felt like slipping back into that life just because then she wouldn't have to care about anyone else dying. That reciprocation thing was always hard to follow.

Stomach growling now, she stood up and wandered into the kitchen. Knowing that the food in the frig was bad, she rummaged through the cabinets, finding some macaroni and cheese and some tuna. Now she saw why the man was always so skinny. He either didn't eat because he couldn't cook or didn't have the time to cook. Always had his head buried in a book, never coming up for air had been her impression of him.

So she set about fixing a meal so her stomach would leave her alone. Too much more work to be done. After finishing her food, she went exploring again, trying to figure out what she might want to keep and what she might want to give away. Maybe the man had a will, but until she could find one, she'd make a mental list anyway. After storing all the stuff at the hotel, then she could figure out the rest.

The bedroom was just as unkempt as the rest of the place. That had not been the case when she'd been there before. Yes, he had books everywhere the last time, but at least most of the place was tidy. Guess he hadn't given a damn any more, she thought.

Entering, she noticed a pile of dirty clothes in a corner and the bed unmade. Going into the bathroom, there were towels draped over the shower rod, and a razor haphazardly sitting on the sink counter. What amazed her was looking at all of these everyday objects and thinking that these were the last things that he used before he died. She was sure that he didn't think about that, but now she could.

Opening the medicine cabinet, she found that aftershave he used, and some leftover Vicodan from some previous injury, probably the neck slash if she remembered correctly. Other things, like floss and toothpaste, sat unused. Maybe she'd ask Gunn where to take things like that, since he was from the neighborhood and might know where they were most needed.

Then she decided to see what he had stored in his closet. Hopefully, it wouldn't be more books. As she opened the door, his smell drifted strongly over her. Gone were the days of perfect suits and ties that he had used in Sunnydale. Sure, he still had suits, but they looked unused, pushed to the very side. No, his uniform of the day was slacks or jeans and some kind of dark shirt. The man had way too much dark in his closet. Way too much like that damn vampire, she thought.

Everything in the closet though was of good quality. She could tell just by feeling the material. Maybe Cordelia had rubbed off on him somewhat. Maybe she even had a hand in buying some of this stuff. Faith took one of the shirts off the hanger and put it on. Since she was used to good old cotton, the silk of the shirt felt sinful against her bare arms. The gray against his skin probably made him look a little paler than he normally was. Could bring out his eyes though.

Not wanting to take the garment off yet, she searched a little more, thinking that maybe she'd find something interesting. The leather pants at the very back made her smirk. Leather on him? Might have been interesting to see. On the floor lay several pairs of shoes and a few shoeboxes. Picking up the boxes, the first held nothing.

The second one, a little worn around the edges, felt full. As she opened it, she found a little treasure trove. It looked like mementos from childhood. A few shells, pictures, an old ID, a tie way too small for an adult, and other various things one would keep in a shoebox. Things that Faith never really got to keep save a few pictures.

Feeling around, she found back behind the clothes and shoes more boxes. Man, the guy kept everything, she thought. While she could fit most of her stuff in a backpack for an easy getaway, Wesley kept the smallest of items that were important to him.

Pulling out the first box, she dragged it to the edge of the bed and sat down. It was one of those file boxes, she noticed. Pushing the top off, she saw the initials WWP and the number 1999 on the top book. She picked the book up and opened it to the first page.

"Watcher Diary, volume one, 1999," she read aloud. Damn, she'd found his watcher diaries. He'd kept them, even after being fired from the Council. Guess they didn't want them because he'd done such a piss poor job back in Sunnydale. Since she had felt several more boxes next to the one she pulled out, made her realize that there were lots to go through. She wondered that if he was as pompous a writer as he was a watcher.

She scanned the first line. "Today I have been informed that I will be the next watcher of an active slayer." Whoopie, she thought. He had arrived not too long after this entry. The next lines contained things about duty and honor, blah, blah, blah. But Faith felt she had to keep reading. Maybe she'd gather some insight on the man. Also, there was a good chance that she'd see what he first thought about her. Since these were official, he probably wouldn't reveal too much of his true feelings.

So she made herself comfortable on the bed and started reading. When she found the first entry relating to her, she sat up in bed to make sure she'd not miss a word.

The comments about Buffy were amusing to say the least. Undisciplined, sarcastic, too entrenched with her friends, family and watcher were his first impressions of B. His first impressions of Faith weren't too much different, except for the part about being too entrenched.

"Faith seems to take her job much more seriously than Buffy does. It's a wonder Buffy hasn't made more mistakes than she has. But her record speaks for itself. Mr. Giles must be doing something right in his teachings. I will have to see how far along Faith is with her studies. I have found the handbook to be quite helpful in many situations so far."

Faith's mouth dropped open. "There was a damn handbook and no one told me," she said to herself. She was certain that B didn't have one either, or the slayer would have thrown that back in her face. No wonder Faith sometimes felt like she was flying blind.

So his first impressions had been much more favorable to Faith than to Buffy. The fact that Giles's name seemed to be peppered throughout his ramblings probably had something to do with it. Sometimes sentences bordered on resentment, and sometimes in awe. So Wesley didn't think that Giles walked on water, but he did see the value of the man's experience. It never came out in anything he actually told Giles though.

From what she remembered, no one save Cordelia thought very much of him as a watcher or a person. Maybe that's why when he described Buffy's friends the tone was cold and uncaring. All the man could write was about sacred duty to the Council.

He described his first encounter with Angel too. It was funny that he thought that Buffy put too much faith in the vampire. That was what she thought too, at first. Since she relied on no one but herself back then, B's commitment to Angel had baffled her from the start. Yeah, he was a hottie and was good in a fight, but he was a guy, a dead one at that. One way or another, Faith knew that he would screw her over, which he did by leaving Sunnydale for good when Faith was in a coma. Guys never stuck around, she learned from hard experience. Her most recent being Robin, her string of bad luck was just that. It proved her motto strongly, which was get some, and get gone.

The thing that fascinated her watcher the most were the demons that Buffy and she encountered on a daily basis. That was mostly what he had written about, describing each in great detail. No wonder the man had such a brain for detail and research. She just wanted to know how to kill it. Leave the details to someone else.

Her eyes became heavy even before she was through volume one. So she lay back against the soft sheets, putting the book down beside her, just to take a little nap so she could continue. He was a vivid, imaginative writer, but it just couldn't keep her awake. She'd been going since the early morning hours. When her head hit Wesley's pillow, she sighed into it, curling her body to the side and pulling the sheet over herself. She finally felt relaxed enough to let the sleep take her under. She just hoped that the bad dreams would stay away for just one night.

* * *

Wesley had no idea how he was supposed to learn all of the material he had in front of him. He guessed that the most important things he had to remember were that he wasn't corporal, so he couldn't touch anything, and that he couldn't directly interfere in his charge's life. Unfortunately the book was not clear on the second count, although it did say that there were repercussions to be had if he did.

Guidance was the key. Subtlety was the instrument to use. Good Lord, what was he to do? Faith would never be guided by anything subtle. He knew for a fact that punching her in the face had a greater effect than any hints he could give her. He'd have to find a way around that suggestion.

Why on earth had he agreed to do this? He wasn't at all prepared to handle anyone at the moment, much less Faith. He had gotten himself into this, so he better figure out the best way to handle her. He made notes along the way, jotting down some of the things that he would try first. Making contact with her would be tricky, since the book said that the preferred method was to not appear to his charge unless absolutely necessary. He wondered how Doyle handled that one.

He guessed that she was still in Cleveland, since that was where she had headed after Sunnydale was destroyed. He had received a postcard and a short phone message, but nothing more. He knew she didn't have a watcher also. Keeping up with her hadn't been easy. But he figured that she was alive and well.

"Whoa. You took notes?" Doyle said, coming in the door. He looked down at the table where Wesley had opened the book.

"How do you think that I should tackle this assignment? Go off all half cocked, not knowing where to start?"

Doyle shook his head no. "Of course not."

"You didn't have the first clue where to start with Cordelia, did you?"

"Not in the least," Doyle told him, plopping down in a chair across from Wesley. "Thank goodness nothing went wrong, because she would have kicked my ass, if I'd been corporeal that is."

"Where did you start?"

"Dreams and stuff. Seemed like the best way to speak with her. I guess it worked, at least for a while. Didn't want to take my advice sometimes."

Would Faith take his advice or tell him where to shove it? He'd definitely have to listen to her to make sure he gave the right advice.

"What was your first piece of advice?" Wesley asked.

"Oh, not to take you on, but did she listen? No."

Wesley glared at the man. Was he baiting him or telling him the truth? "Why would you say something like that?"

"I just thought that Angel needed someone with muscle, not brains. But it worked out eventually. That Gunn character came along. That was my doing, you know."

Angel had found Gunn, not Cordelia, he knew. But Gunn had joined them more because of Cordelia's insistence than anything else. And the fact that Angel was doing more good fighting evil than he was with his crew.

"Your suggestion, you mean?"

"Yeah. Her saving him that one time was my doin'. That was my vision." Doyle patted himself like he had just tasted victory.

"Those visions that you gave her almost killed her." Wesley had been there too many times, watching Cordelia brave the pain, to not mention that to Doyle.

"I know. If I'd known. Damn PTBs."

The two sat in silence for a few moments, not knowing what to say to each other.

"So, Faith. She's a looker. Must have made your choice much easier."

"Doyle, she tortured me for hours, so no, it didn't make it that much easier."

"So why, man?"

"I didn't exactly do right by her when I was living. I thought that maybe I could make up for it." Wesley slammed the book shut, not wanting to reveal too much to Doyle. He didn't even know him.

"Hey, what's past is past. We all make bad choices. Look at me. Cordy didn't exactly get a world full of flowers, now did she."

Wesley shook his head in agreement. "I just hope I don't make your mistakes."

"Who said that I made mistakes? The woman does as she pleases."

"Well, maybe if you'd read the book, she'd be alive today."

Doyle stood up, glaring down at Wesley. "What do you know? You'll see how hard it is."

"And I got the distinct impression that it was a breeze to perform this job," Wesley said to him, sarcasm dripping.

"We'll see how many times you screw up then bucko."

"Is that a challenge?"

"Damn straight."

Wesley stood beside the man, trying to use his height to his advantage. He'd never been one to intimidate people with his body like Angel did, but in this situation, it seemed appropriate.

"We'll see now won't we?"


	7. Spike Finds A Purpose

Chapter Seven – Spike Finds A Purpose

Spike rubbed his head for the millionth time, realizing that his hair had been shorn off, but wanting to feel if it was still there. Kind of like his colleagues, who had died one by one. He had wanted to feel if any of them were still around. Foolish of him to think that the watcher could have survived.

Some were still around, but everything had been irrevocably changed about them. Fred was Illyria, Gunn was badly hurt, Lorne had disappeared, and Angel was brooding to the point of killing himself. Everyone else was dead. The cheerleader, the watcher, the scientist, all gone. He never thought he'd miss these people, but he did. Rematerializing surrounded by the group had just pissed him off not more than nine months prior. But the first thing they did, Fred did, was try to figure out how to make him solid again.

Yeah, Angel groused and complained about having Spike around, but he never said to Fred or anyone else not to save him. Oh, he knew that his sire might want that to happen, but he never actually voiced it as far as he knew. Maybe he did to his people, but never to Spike.

They had a bond he felt that ran deeper than Angel just being his sire. The soul thing had made them rivals and kindred spirits all in one second. While Spike had fought for his soul, Angel had been cursed with his. Probably made Peaches feel a little inadequate. Spike paid him no mind about it.

If he had been the one to be made a real boy, then so be it. If not, then being a vampire had its privileges. When Percy had first told him about the prophecy, he had dismissed it as garbage. Maybe because he didn't want to believe that he could really become human. Then he saw how Angel reacted to the news that Spike knew. That was when he realized how important the prophecy might be. And that it might happen to him.

After the cup incident though, Spike really put it aside, save to tweak Angel some. He'd beaten Angel the first time in their long lives. Now he figured it wasn't his superior fighting skills. The bloke just didn't have it in him at that moment to crush Spike. Angel had been fighting the depression for months. If the fight had taken place after the cheerleader had returned, Spike would have been history.

He missed Cordelia, although he had never gotten close to her, being a soulless vampire in Sunnydale. She was just another body to him back then. Her and her Scooby friends had screwed up every plan he had tried to put into place. So when she had reappeared for that one day, he didn't know what to think of her. He hadn't been around at all when she was alive. But he did understand her role in the group. She was the glue that held them all together, not unlike Xander had been in Sunnydale.

She could fight, she was beautiful, and she could piss off Angel with just one look. Too bad she had to go bye-bye that soon. He would have loved having her around just to see how Angel dealt with her.

Fred was Fred, a light in the mist of all the male testosterone. He had just wanted to have her around because she was Fred. The first person to look at him and want to save him. The rest didn't give a damn whether he faded off into the ether. She had wanted to save him. It never happened though, fate having intervened. He didn't care one way or another. She was always sweet to him, much like Willow was.

The ex-watcher Percy was another story all together. Wesley kept him at a distance, much like he was a specimen to study. So much like Giles. Wesley was becoming the older watcher from what he could see. Giles was always a bit too impulsive and reckless, much like the dead man was. He wasn't a bit surprised when good old Wes raised his gun and shot that asshole Knox. Spike didn't even have time to react. Too bad he hadn't gotten there first. What he realized now was that they both had feelings for the scientist. Oh, Spike's was more affection than love, but all in the same general direction. Spike just had many more years to perfect the all-encompassing worship phase than the wanker had. God, how he had worshipped the ground Drusilla had walked. Then to bow at Buffy's feet all too often.

Spike always respected a man who could fight. Gunn seemed to fit that bill, although only in those last couple of weeks. He had sold his soul for knowledge. That in and of itself confused Spike endlessly. Why on earth would someone want to be that smart? And it had backfired on Charlie. But the man sacrificed himself for the greater good, for the team to bring back Lindsey. He would have just left the bastard to fry.

Sitting on the top of the hotel, Spike pulled out a cigarette, his fourth, to light. He could sit up there all night, just breathing in the cool air, not exactly fresh mind you, but not oppressive nonetheless. Angel had made the air seem stale, depressing, and downright pathetic in a way. He would have rather had Peaches loose his marbles then this. Then he'd have an excuse to stake the ponce.

Faith had been around some in the last couple of weeks, but was becoming scarcer by the day. She had holed herself up in the watcher's apartment, living in her own depressed state. Why was he the only one to pull it together? Even Illyria walked around in a daze, not knowing what to do next. Sometimes he'd wave his hand in front of her face and get no reaction. He wondered where she'd go in her mind.

"You are here," a voice stated behind him.

Ah, Blue had found him. She did seek him out sometimes, just to have him in her presence. Sometimes saying nothing, sometimes just to hear him talk. He was not in the mood for either tonight.

"What do you need?" he asked, not turning around to see her.

"I am not sure." Spike snorted, then took another drag off of his cigarette. "I am perplexed at the moment."

Great, now she wanted him to become the teacher. "Not in the mood, Blue."

"I do not understand this grieving that you do."

Grief. Spike could spout volumes on grief. In just his lifetime, he'd caused so much grief he could be a scholar on the subject. It was the last few years that had scared him. Buffy's dying had been the worst. But she had given him a job to do, which made it a little easier. He had protected Dawn and the rest of them as best he could. She had relied on him to do this. It gave him a reason to go on.

"Blue, I'm not Wes. I'm not going to lead you down whatever path."

"I am asking you. You did not know these humans for long. Why did they mean so much to you?"

Even he didn't know the answer to that. Maybe because they had given him a home, had trusted him, had fought side-by-side with him. Maybe because they had sacrificed everything including their lives, just like he did back in Sunnydale. Only he was back from wherever he had gone. They weren't coming back.

"Not sure. And if I did, I don't think that I'd tell you."

"Did you love her?"

"What?" Spike turned to look at Illyria. She had taken to wearing Fred's clothes that had been left at the hotel. Since Spike had no idea what she had looked like in them, it really didn't bother him. But it would have bothered the others.

"This shell is pleasing to you."

Spike's eyes widened at the thought. Of course Fred had been pleasing to him, and it just wasn't her body. She'd been a good person. "Illyria, you don't want to go there."

"The shell was pleasing to Wesley too. And to Gunn. I do not understand any of it."

"It just wasn't the shell, Blue. Fred had this light around her. Everyone was drawn to her. You have to understand."

"I do understand. Bringing me forth killed the human. I know how much it hurt the others."

Spike approached Illyria, a look of murder in his eyes. Did she realize what she was saying, he thought? How devastated they all were?

"You have no idea," he growled at her.

"I do," Illyria stated with more conviction than necessary. "I watched him die."

Right, Spike thought, she had watched Wesley die. But was that enough for her to realize all the pain she had caused?

"You loved him?" The thought had come out of nowhere. Illyria had taken to experimenting with Wes right before he had died. Appearing as Fred to her parents, following him around almost to the point of stalking.

"I do not understand that emotion. He was my guide." Illyria looked down at the ground, ice-blue eyes moving back and forth, seeking answers to questions that he felt that he couldn't answer.

"What did it feel like?" Spike asked as he moved closer. Spike always prided himself on reading human emotions, whether it was fear, love, hatred, whatever he could use against them when he was soulless. Made the kill that much more exciting.

Illyria looked around everywhere but him, not focusing on anything in particular. Spike grabbed her face to stop its motion, making her look him directly in the eyes.

"Tell me," he said quietly.

"It hurts. Everything aches. I cannot concentrate. I feel the need to hit something, but I cannot. It confuses me. I do not want to feel like this. Make it stop."

He wished he could make it stop. At least for him, maybe for Angel.

"It will lessen with time. But it won't go away."

"I need to fix it. Go back in time and stop it. But I cannot. My powers will not help me this time."

Spike released his strong hold on Illyria's face, but still keeping his hand at the side of her cheek. He had wished this more times in the past couple of years. For him to go back and save Buffy before she jumped off of that tower. For him to save Anya before she had been cut down by the Bringers in the last battle. He felt powerless sometimes. Right now was one of them.

"You can't fix it."

"You do not understand, half-breed. I had armies that could take out entire worlds. I had more at my disposal than these humans could ever imagine. But I cannot understand any of these human emotions."

"Spike. I have a name you know. Use it. And I can imagine just what you had. But that was had, not have. They're gone. Now get used to it."

Spike released her cheek. What he didn't expect was for Illyria to rear back and sock him in the jaw.

"You need to help me fix this, Spike. I cannot go on like this."

"And I'm not here for you to command," Spike told her, holding his jaw. "And you can't fix it."

"No. I do not take that as the answer," Illyria commanded, tears welling up in her eyes.

Hell, she was going to blubber. A blubbering ex-god. He didn't need anyone else taking her pound of flesh and leaving him high and dry. The slayer had done her job too well before. But he couldn't help but feel for what she was going through. When he first had gotten his soul, his mind was crazed. He didn't know what to do, what to feel, who to grieve, how to make up for any of it. Buffy had shown him the way, not exactly willingly, but being there for him when he needed it.

Spike wrapped his arms around the crying ex-god, taking in her shudders and sobs. He had a feeling that this was going to take more than just a little handholding and patting on the back. She had the strength to make his life hell, and not just with the strength of her body.


	8. The Real McCoy

Chapter Eight – The Real McCoy

Was he ready to contact her? Wesley pondered that statement as he looked over his notes again for the millionth time. Would Faith accept his help? For all he knew, she was living the high life, slaying demons and happy as a clam. Which meant she probably would not want his help on anything.

So he would look into her life, figure out where she might need guidance, then back up and let her live her life. Too much interference wouldn't help matters, the book had said. It might result in changing of a destiny. Since he didn't know her destiny, that wouldn't do.

"Hey," Cordelia waved as she entered the cottage.

"Hello."

Wesley got up to pace the floor. The look on Cordelia's face worried him. She didn't like the fact that he had chosen Faith. This Cordelia hadn't been around when he had broken Faith out of prison to help capture Angelus. She didn't know how much the slayer had changed. Of course, Faith still had a long way to go to seek redemption. Her selfless sacrifice to take Angelus down had gone a long way in his mind to help her along that path.

"Are you ready?"

"I know you're still not comfortable with this, but it's what I have to do."

"You are on such a guilt trip right now. There's no talking to you anyhow."

"What do you remember of the past couple of years, Cordelia?"

Cordelia winced. Maybe she did remember more than she was letting on.

"I saw way too much. Let's just say, it wasn't fun sitting up here watching it all."

So she had seen some of it. How much though? Had she concentrated on Angel only?

"How much? The part where Angel was thrown out of a building? The part where your evil counterpart slept with Angel's son? Or the part where evil Cordy tried to take us all down?"

Tears welled up in Cordelia's eyes. So she had seen the harsh highlights of that horrendous year. Had seen what had happened to all of them, from the Beast to Angelus to Jasmine.

"I saw it all. I just wish that thing hadn't hijacked my body. I had tried so hard to get through to Angel. It didn't work. And when I came back for that one day, I thought the vision would help bring him back."

It hit Wesley what Cordelia was to Angel. She was his guardian angel. And like Doyle, she hadn't exactly helped in some of the situations.

"At least I got through to him about the hijacking. Thought he would never figure it out."

Which answered another one of his questions. Angel had figured out that evil Cordy was taking them for a ride. That she had let Angelus out of that cage. He always wondered how Angel had come to that conclusion. If he hadn't, then it would have been that much harder to defeat Jasmine in the end.

"You know, you probably would have been better off with Xander. At least he usually doesn't put himself in harm's way every day. Faith will be too busy slaying her little heart out to listen."

But Faith had listened to him the last time she had seen him. She had trusted him to formulate a plan to capture Angelus. She had trusted him with her very life, begrudgingly, but she had. He had become her watcher finally, pushing her to make the decision to inject herself with Orpheus. She hadn't liked his methods. Hell, he hadn't liked himself at that point either. But it was the only way he had seen fit to communicate with Faith. It had worked out in the end, thank goodness. It wasn't something he wanted to repeat.

He had changed the last year, at Wolfram and Hart. Angel taking away those memories had spared him for a little while, his mind finding a little peace. He had two sets of memories from the experience. One involved Connor, one did not. The idyllic world did not involve the boy, did not involve his neck being slashed, his friends leaving him out in the cold. But he never had lived in an idyllic world. His world had always been harsh and cruel, even when he was a child.

How he could change it for Faith, he couldn't fathom at the moment. He knew what kind of life she had led before being called. He also knew that she had lived on the edge for quite some time. He hoped the woman he would find now was more at peace. That would make his job so much easier.

"Do I get to know what has been happening with her? Do I walk in blind?"

"Thank God, yes, no blindness on your part. I would have pulled my hair out if I hadn't known about Angel's little vacation under the sea. Thank you for fixing that by the way."

"You're welcome, I think."

"There was no talking to the crazy vampire while he was playin' with the fishes. Although, you were taking way too many chances with him when you brought him up."

Wesley's arm still bore the scar of Angel's fang marks. And he also still bore all the scars that Faith had given him too. Why did the ones you love always hurt you the most?

"So, where is she now? I hope she's not in any predicament like Angel."

Cordelia grimaced then patted him on the arm. "Well, now that you mention it. She's not doin' so well. From the little that I've glimpsed, not so well at all."

"How do I see?"

"Oh, just think about her. Hey, you're a spirit or a ghost or whatever you want to call it. Not like she'll see you or anything."

Wesley was nervous. Almost as nervous meeting Faith for the first time. That time she had walked out on him, literally telling him to screw it. She hadn't taken kindly to him then. He was glad she couldn't see him now.

"OK, here goes."

Wesley closed his eyes, imagining what Faith had looked like a little over a year ago. The way she had looked as she had marched out of the hotel on Willow's heels, ready to go save the world with Buffy.

The images passed through quickly. Faith's ability to lead made him smile, although it didn't go swimmingly for her at first. Faith knew her limitations though. The battle with the First. His body felt every blow that Faith had received that day. But she had survived and thrived afterwards.

He could feel her turn inwards again a little later. Like she didn't fit, again. Yes, she did her job efficiently and with zest. There was no human connection. She didn't have any close friends. She didn't fraternize with her fellow new slayers. She did her job and that was it.

What he hadn't expected was her leaving Cleveland to arrive in Los Angeles. She knew that something had happened. How on earth had she realized what was going on? No one had called her, warned her of the impending battle. But she had come anyway, and had been too late. She was trying to help out as much as she could. Angel rebuffed her efforts. No surprise there.

At present, she sat on a bed reading. He had never known that she had liked reading. Having sent her a few books in prison, she had politely sent thank yous, but that was it. Angel had never known that Wesley even cared what happened to his slayer. She must have never mentioned it to the vampire. But now he could see that she enjoyed a book just as much as the rest of the world.

The tear down her cheek disturbed him. He never liked to see her sad. Since her usual expression was mostly angry at the world, this bothered him. So something must be wrong in her world. Faith hugged the book to her chest, tears still coming. When he saw what she was reading, recognizing them instantly, he gasped.

"She's reading them," he strained to say. He hadn't noticed that Cordelia was still in the room with him, he had been so enthralled with the passage of time for Faith.

"Reading what?"

"The diaries."

"You mean your watcher diaries? Boring stuff probably."

"No. Not those. The other ones. My diaries."

"Oops. Should have burned them you know."

"She'll know everything. Dammit, why?"

"Hey, you should have been like me. Say what you want whenever you want. Cuts down on the explainage."

She was reading his personal diaries. They had been hidden in his apartment. Which now that he realized that, she must be in his apartment to read them. In his bed, with one of his shirts on, he added to his scrambled brain.

"What, what do I do?"

"You're the dumbass, not me. Besides, what could she have found out that would damage you now?"

"Only my ability to help her."

"Must have been, oh, wait. You didn't?"

Wesley turned away from her, not wanting her to see his expression. Cordelia could always read him like a book.

"She'll know what a bumbling fool I was," he said, trying to hide his true feelings.

"Pfft. She already knew that. Faith isn't that stupid. What'd you write about her? That's it, isn't it? Huh?"

Wesley would not blush in front of Cordelia. He willed it to go away. But she smiled that knowing smile anyway.

"Hey, you're awfully cute when you blush. Work it out. It really can't be that bad."

"Oh, it is. It really is." Wesley reverted back a moment to the man he was when Cordelia and Angel saw when he first came to Los Angeles. Unsure of himself, but trying his hardest to do the right thing. How did he fix this enough for Faith to trust him? He wouldn't know until he tried.

* * *

Faith had gotten through several of Wesley's watcher diaries, skipping several months here and there just because she wanted him to move the story along. Man the guy could be so long winded about demons. She was bored though. She wanted the story to move along at a much faster pace. Unfortunately she had only made it up until right before the gang went to Pylea. The stories were amusing, she had to give her watcher that. There just seemed to be something missing in them.

Rummaging around the apartment, Faith looked through the front closet, wondering what else the man was hiding. She found an old shotgun on the top shelf, along with boxes of shells. As she climbed onto the short ladder, she brought all of this down to check it out. Banging the box down on the shelf, she noticed something odd. The wall behind it seemed to be loose. Quickly popping the side out, she felt around with her hand, hoping that he hadn't booby-trapped the hiding spot. Her hand closed over several thin books. Oh, joy, she thought. More books to pore over in her spare time. Spare time that she had in spades. Books, she had more than she thought humanly possible. Or at least more than a watcher should have.

Faith pulled them out and stepped off the ladder. In the dim light, she could make out nothing on the front covers. The set she discovered was bound together by a simple rubber band. Stepping back up the ladder, she felt around and found more books. A lot more books. By the time she was done, she had found twenty-five in all. And she wasn't even done searching the closet for more. She concluded that there probably were more stashed around the apartment.

So she took what looked like some of the most recent volumes and settled down on the couch. Opening them, she whistled. Now everything seemed to start making sense. These were the real McCoys. Not that babble of the watcher diaries she had found in the bedroom closet. Too easy to find. These were his real journals. She wondered if Giles possessed a set of these also. Or was this just something that old Wes had done for himself. He always was too much of a windbag.

She opened one, which had written September 2002 on the top of the page. Hey, she thought, that was just months before he had broken her out of prison. Now she'd get his true feelings.

"Whoa," she said out loud. "Get a load of this."

And she thought that Willow tended to ramble on about people. While the diaries had been polite in their assessment of the people populated by them, these were not at all. Wesley downright despised Angel. That she got from the first couple of sentences.

 _"That goddamn prick has gone and gotten himself cast into the sea by that godforsaken spawn of a son, Connor. I don't know for the life of me why I care what happens to him. It's his fault that he is in that predicament at the moment. If he had just kept it in his pants, then the child would not have been conceived and we could have lived our lives."_

Faith stared in shock. Who in the hell was Connor? Angel had a son? What was going on? She was sure that the journal was in Wesley's handwriting. So it had to have happened. She kept reading.

 _"But she'll tell me one way or another. Justine will break soon. It's just a matter of time. She'll tell me where she and Connor sank Angel. It's a big ocean out there. It's just a matter of time. The cage is holding up nicely. Lilah has no idea that Justine can hear every sound she makes. Every sound."_

Faith knew about Lilah. Knew that Wesley had to chop her head off because Angelus might have turned her. At least that she remembered. But in the back of her mind, something told her that she was missing pieces. That these journals will fill in those pieces. So she kept reading, wondering what on earth had changed him so much in so little time. Hell, she'd had a lifetime to be who she was. What was his excuse?

 _"Lilah is a convenience. Something to bury my misery for just a while. If Angel knew, life would not be pleasant. But why would I care what he thinks. I think I'll tell him once I find him just to see his reaction. Might send him over the edge. Would be interesting to see. It would show him just how far to the dark side I have gone. Or he just might be jealous that he didn't get there first. I could never tell with him. He and Lilah had a complicated relationship to say the least. It was either fuck her or kill her. I could never tell which. I seemed to have fallen the same way."_

Damn, Faith thought. So our boy really did fall to the dark side for a while. Lilah must have pursued him hot and heavy for him to go for it. Because by the time she had come back on the scene, Wesley had at least pulled himself together so he could function around Angel.

Faith flipped through a couple more, wanting to find out the journal where she had appeared. It took some time, so Faith settled onto the bed, her favorite reading spot. It was much more comfortable than the lumpy couch, and had soft sheets. Pulling the covers close, she flipped through a couple more until she found her name. She just hoped her curiosity would be fulfilled, not her hopes crushed.

 _"Faith. Why do I think she can help us? Because of her bond with Angel. Angel had saved her from certain death. She has a debt to repay him. So she'll not stake on sight. Buffy just might, considering she had sent him to hell once before. Faith will do just about anything for the vampire. It will be much easier to convince her that capture is the best way to handle the situation. Lord knows if I had the strength I would perform the task. But, alas, I do not. My only talent is the books. Or unless I wanted to put a bullet between the vampire's eyes. Might incapacitate him for a while, but I still wouldn't gain the knowledge I need to bring the Beast down. Angelus in a cage is the only way."_

So he trusted her. That was good, she thought. Probably a first though. When had anyone ever trusted her? B had trusted her for a while to slay beside her. But now things were different. Lots of people trusted her. She hoped. She read a later entry, after he had broken her out of prison.

 _"How lovely it was to fall out a five story window. I thought I had broken a few bones, but thankfully I landed just right so as to not. The bruises though are already tender to the touch. Faith looks older, more tired. We must mirror each other. I am older, more tired than I ever have been. But she is willing to fix my mistake. Bully for her. I just hope that she's strong enough. She's not back in the game. I tested her. She did her job. But not with the zest she is known for. If something doesn't happen soon, I will be sending her to her grave."_

So he'd figured it out and not told her. She knew that she wasn't quite up to snuff. His little demonstration hadn't convinced her of anything. He knew her too well. She thought she had looked ready. She scanned forward to right after the Beast had beaten her into a bloody mess.

 _"Oh God, what have I done? She wasn't ready. I knew this, but I let her take the chance. I need to pull her back, think about a different strategy. I wanted to go to her, tell her that it was over. She wouldn't even let me touch her, bandage her up. Until I insisted that is. So much blood from such a small body. Her skin was on fire as I touched the cuts. It wouldn't due to tell her how much I admired what she had sacrificed to bring Angelus down, even though in the end it was the Beast. She'd throw it back in my face. And she'd probably punch my lights out if I suggested that I kiss every hurt on her body."_

Faith literally tossed the journal sideways. Now that was not expected. She couldn't believe what she just read. Damn, he had the hots for her. Was he sick or what? She tortured him. She got him fired from the Council. She called him every name in the book. She had tried to kill him and his little friends in Sunnydale. She had punched Cordelia in the face. Did the man like pain? From what she could tell about his relationship with Lilah, pain had been something that he liked. Her skin crawled a little as she thought about him, in that way.

As she picked up the journal again, she gingerly opened it back to the page she was reading. Maybe he was just horny from the fight. Hell, she'd been horny as soon as they had flown through that window. But she had control of herself. She never, ever thought that Wes wanted a tumble. Sure, she had thought about it too much, with him in particular, but how could he?

 _"But that was not what she needed at the moment. She needed a watcher. And that's what I'll be to her."_ Good, she thought. A moment of insanity on his part. But she kept reading, looking for instances of any kind of feelings. Man, were the entries peppered with them. Oh boy, maybe she should have left the journals alone.

 _"She agreed with me today that it would take something powerful to bring down Angelus. The drug would provide that possibility. It was a last resort. And it scared me down to my toes to give her the syringe. She took it from me without hesitation. She would be ready, she told me. What she wasn't ready for was my attitude. When she first saw me at the prison, she said I looked good. What she meant was I looked as she did not more than three years before. She was the one clawing herself out of the ground, seeking redemption. I was just existing. But something stirs in me when I'm with her. Something I thought buried since coming to Los Angeles. My need to be her watcher weighs heavily on my mind. I don't want to be her watcher, the way a normal watcher should act. I see her as a very desirable woman. Not something a watcher should feel. I wonder if Giles ever had those feelings toward Buffy. I think not, but one never knows. I want her in the worst way. In that alley, I saw the real Faith. The Faith that had redeemed herself. I wanted to bury myself in her strength."_

Oh my God, she thought. This is starting to sound like a porn flick, or one of those really steamy romance novels. How would have she reacted if he had made a move on her? She really didn't know. Yeah, sure he was damn attractive. Sure, he was definitely bedroom material. But he was Wesley. He was her watcher. And here she was reading his innermost thoughts. Things that had been kept secret from everyone. No one knew this. Now she did. Why did he have to write this stuff down?

The next page was stained with tears, she was sure since the pages were crinkled. Did he feel something, like sadness as she lay there in that bed dying? _"I've killed her. I sent her to her death. Why did I not die along with her? Angelus surely tried to end my life. But he bit Faith, not me. And the drug pulled her under too well. I must have made the dose too strong. Both are out now. Lorne says that she will die. Another girl will be called in her place, to die too young. What have I done? Now, I will never get the chance to tell her how proud I am of her. She has fulfilled her duty to the extreme. It's all that a watcher can ask of a slayer."_

Faith had started to cry also. Dammit, he hadn't said one word to her. He had thought she was going to die. No chance to tell her a thing. Then she had suddenly woken up and headed to Sunnydale. Sure, they had literally stared each other into the ground right before she left, but this? He was proud of her? That hurt more than the thoughts about screwing her. She never got the chance to do either. As she hugged the personal journal to her chest, she thought about what could have been. That pit of despair just kept getting larger and larger.


	9. No Rest for the Wicked

Chapter Nine – No Rest for the Wicked

"Building yourself your own little prison, I see," Spike groused as Faith opened the door to the apartment.

"Screw you," she told him without much venom behind the statement.

"Not in this lifetime, that's for sure. Screwing one slayer was enough for this old dog. Can I come in?"

Faith stood in the doorway, blocking the vampire's entrance. Might as well, she thought. She hadn't talked to another soul for almost a week, unless you counted the lady at the checkout counter of the Ralph's supermarket.

"Yeah, whatever." Faith gestured for him to come in.

"Missed you at the lovefest I've been having at the hotel." Spike stood with his hands crossed in front of him. He did not look pleased. "Too busy slaying to take some time out for the folks?"

"No. No slaying." Faith could not look him in the eyes. She knew she'd find too many questions that she was not ready to answer.

"Hmm. Let me get this straight. The slayer, the girl who gets the itch after, say, a few hours if she hasn't killed or maimed something hasn't been out in how long? Three weeks now? Is that right?"

He was right. She didn't want to answer the question though. It was none of his damn business. "None of your damn business. Who died and made you my watcher?"

Faith hadn't meant to say it. Spike just shook his head in dismay. She really was not liking the vampire at the moment.

"Faith, this is just not like you. Get out and kill something. You need to get back into the game."

"This is not a game. My life is not a game, Spike. I am tired of it being a game. Now excuse me. I'm just going to get some tea."

Spike glared at her, shocked at her attitude. He could stuff that right up his . . . .

"Tea? There's got to be something wrong with this apartment. Some demon possessed you with the spirit of your watcher. You don't drink tea."

Faith sat down at the table with her porcelain cup. "I do now." The smell was even calming her as she sat. Why didn't he realize that?

"What if I were to tell you the whole world is fucking falling apart? Would you care?"

Faith shook her head no. The world could fucking fall apart and she would sit in that apartment and watch it fall away.

"Am I the only one around here with any sense? Me? I'm supposed to be the crazy, irresponsible one. That's it."

Spike grabbed Faith around the waist, pulling her up. He reared back his fist and punched her hard in the face. Faith went down, and didn't get up.

"Fight back, damn you. You're the slayer. You're supposed to fight back."

Faith just sat and looked up at him. "Go play with your blue demon. I'm not in the mood."

She got up and went back to her tea. Spike would not anger her. She would not be baited into punching him back.

Spike looked around, at anything to figure out the problem. He wouldn't find anything, Faith wanted to scream at him. The more she stayed still, the less she wanted to slay, the less she wanted any contact with her former life. Spike was a reminder of it.

"Go away, Spike. Just go away," she calmly told the vampire.

"Yeah. I'll be back to check on you." He left without saying another word.

* * *

Spike leaned heavily against the now closed door. Had some demon sucked the life out of Faith? Or had the last years finally caught up with her? It was time he asked for help with her. He didn't want her ending up like Fred had. His life was complicated enough without Faith adding to the mix. He'd even lie to get those damn Scoobies to come to her rescue. Time to make a plan, he thought.

As he headed off towards the hotel, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Someone was following him. Several someones from the smell of them. Demon probably. He'd been waiting for the bastards to come after him for the little demon bashing party that he and Angel had thrown. He couldn't believe that Faith hadn't felt that itch. He certainly was feeling it now. Being down for three weeks had made him stir crazy. Even sparring with Illyria wouldn't have made him feel better.

As he rounded the corner, he stepped aside, into a dark doorway. Two vampires strode past, looking ahead. Spike also spotted across the street a couple of Fyral demons trying to keep to the shadows. Man, he must be hot. To send that many demons after little old him, made him feel all mushy inside. He'd show them just how dangerous he could be.

Slipping out of the doorway, he quietly stalked the two vampires in front of him. He figured that taking down the easier prey first would work to his advantage. The Fyral demons would be tougher for him. Backup would have been nice, but what was a souled vampire to do.

Grasping the stake in his pocket, he lightly stepped up to one of the vampires, plunging the stake forward. Dust flew everywhere. Damn vampires, he thought. No pride in being stealthy anymore. The second turned, only to be met by a fist to the face. Now that felt good, he cheered gleefully to himself. To hit something. His undead heart sang.

He met with some resistance, but being as old as he was, he had moves that this fledgling could only dream about. The guy went poof a few seconds later, speared by his wrist stake. Angel's toys were sometimes a joy to play around with.

The problem with taking care of the two vampires was it attracted the attention of the other demons across the street. Damn, he really should start carrying a sword with him also. The buggers after him were a little too big and nasty just to be taken out by a dagger or stake.

Spike took off at a run, dodging the demons until he found a fire escape to climb up. Reaching the roof, he took off, looking over his shoulder to see if they followed. Which meant he didn't see the other three mean-looking Rundar demons right in front of him until he heard one of them growl. He'd run into these types of demons before. They were fast, they were smart, and most of the time they were deadly. They also had body armor, which made killing them something of a chore. Punching wouldn't really hurt them, but his fist would feel it. Knives would be better to use. The only thing in his favor was they were about his size. He hated it when his opponent was larger than he was.

"Vampire," the gray-scaled thing hissed his way.

"Hey, what's your beef? Me, I'm walkin' home, all nice and innocent like."

The Rundar actually laughed. It sounded more like a bark than anything. Didn't make Spike feel very polite.

"You are a menace. You need to be taught a lesson." The Rundar advanced.

Spike danced on the balls of his feet, ready to pummel the first one to come his way. Now this was more like it, he thought. The vampires had done nothing to quell that need for violence. These guys would do just nicely.

That was until two small hands came up behind the first one and snapped his neck. Spike shook his head in disgust and dived for the other two. Why oh why was he plagued with her?

Illyria pushed the body away from her, catching one of the demons he had dived for, dragging it away. Spike got in two good, bloody punches to the remaining one, making the thing stagger slightly. The armor held, for now. Reaching for his dagger, Spike slashed out at his opponent, but missing by a mile. Fighting with Illyria was sometimes disconcerting. He never knew what to expect of her, not knowing where she would end up. At least with the poof Angel, he knew the vampire's moves.

The Rundar attacked him full force again, pulling his own dagger from his middle, which then the bastard morphed into a broadsword. Oh, he had forgotten that little trick the damn things could pull. Made hiding and carrying weapons much easier.

"Hey, it's not the size that matters, it's the motion."

The demon actually became distracted, so Spike took that opportunity to swipe out, catching the creature on the arm, drawing blood, body armor be damned. It howled in fury, swinging the broadsword in a wide arc, almost taking Spike's head off.

"Come on, you disgusting, asexual bastard. You couldn't get yourself off to save yourself."

The demon sneered at him, at least that's what Spike thought was a sneer, but it gave him another opportunity to drive home the dagger. It connected again, this time on the thing's front.

"You pansy. If the way you swing that sword is the way you get some, it's a wonder that your species ever screws."

The Rundar tried stabbing him in the abdomen, for which he quickly dodged. What is it about demons and sex? Talk about being a eunuch, and they all crumble. He didn't dare look over to see if Illyria had crushed her foe. He could still hear sounds of a fight, so she must be holding her own. No taunting from her though. Her style was efficient and deadly, from what he remembered of the alley. Her grief had taken her to new heights of violence.

"I'm just wonderin' if you're a eunuch? Sure fight like it."

The creature growled, putting its head down to charge. Spike jumped out of the way, making the thing go tumbling off the side of the building, landing with a big splat far below. So much for body armor. That didn't protect you from fifteen stories of momentum.

Turning, Spike watched as Illyria still took on her opponent. This one looked to be the biggest of the three. Since she was just a little slip of a thing, she had the advantage of quickness. And she didn't even show signs of tiring.

"Need help, Blue?" he asked calmly.

"This insignificant being is no match for my wrath," she growled back at him.

Spike watched as she gathered a full head of steam, finally taking the demon in her hands and beating him to a bloody pulp. And she kept whaling on the guy, until Spike took mercy on it. He grabbed her fist in his hand to still it. A deadly look passed between the two, then Illyria slowly lowered her balled up hand.

"Get it done," he told her as he backed away slightly.

Illyria nodded her head quickly, and then kicked the Rundar in the air, sending it over to join its friend on the pavement below. But by the looks of it, she was still in hunt mode. Turning her attention to Spike, she started circling him like he was the prey.

"Listen, we need to get back to Angel. Make sure no one went after him."

"Why did you stop me? I needed to dispatch him."

Spike snorted. No, she needed to kill the bloody bastard, dispatching was just another word for it.

"You shoulda just snapped him in two. But you've been cooped up too long for just that, haven't you?"

He watched her closely. Her blue eyes gleamed in the moonlight. He wasn't sure whether he might be the one to get snapped in two at this point. The violence pored off of her in waves. He thanked whatever deity he had not been alive when she ruled. She was one tough bitch.

"The need to do violence is strong tonight. Don't you feel it? It sings to me. It calls to me. To feel it run through my veins."

"Yeah. Whatever. Sounds like a slayer. Maybe you could teach Faith a thing or two about that."

Illyria sneered at the sound of the slayer's name. He figured that she shared some of Fred's memories about the dark-haired slayer. Since not all of the watcher's dealings with his charge had been pleasant, he wondered if at some point Illyria would challenge Faith. Of course, if what happened tonight was any indication, Faith would let the ex-god take her pound of flesh and then some.

"The girl does not concern me. What concerns me is you, half-breed. You attract these demons like . . . ."

"Flies? Magnets? Yeah, sort of figured that out. You need to dial it down a notch so we can make it home in one piece. Capish?"

Illyria stopped her stalking to look at him strangely. "I do not understand your use of language, Spike."

Spike almost staggered when Illyria used his name. Always a first time for everything in his book. He flashed her a grin, reaching his hand out hoping she would take it. What he couldn't believe was her ice blue eyes. They softened slightly, crinkling just a little around the corners. Was that some human emotion trying to break forth or did she have something in her eyes?

"Thank you," for not beating the crap out of me, he thought, not voicing it. Maybe, just maybe he was getting through to her on some level.

"You are using words . . . ."

"That are nice. Well, get used to it. Just like you'll get used to saying my name. Just like you'll get used to those emotions swirling around that brain of yours."

He saw her swallow visibly, which was another one of those human things people did when they were uncomfortable. But she clutched his hand, eyes wide at the gesture.

"Your hand is smooth to the touch. Cool. Not at all like the human."

"Room temperature."

Illyria stared at their connection a moment longer, turning her head just so as she contemplated the situation. Spike wondered what could be going on in that head of hers. He knew that Wesley had never given her any kind of connection other than to throw snide, hurtful comments her way. But it wasn't like he had a choice in the matter. She did take away the one thing that seemed good in the world to him.

"It is pleasant."

So he had pleased the blue-haired creature. Would wonders never cease? He still didn't know what Illyria expected out of him.

"Let's go check on Peaches."

Spike tugged on her slightly warmer hand, wanting to get off that roof before any more demons showed up to take them on. His heart just wasn't in it at the moment to kill a bunch of losers.

"I do not understand why you call him a name of a fruit."

Spike laughed at the memory. "It's a long, long story, love."

* * *

Faith wanted to punch the wall after Spike walked out. Who was he to tell her what to do? Sure, she wasn't in the game at the moment. But she was entitled to some downtime. Even the perfect Buffy took time off every once and a while. Maybe not three weeks of sulking in a depressing apartment with bad memories surrounding her, but hey, what's a girl to do.

She sat at the dining table, opening another one of those damn diaries. They weren't in any particular order, so whatever she came to, she read. Man, she never knew how much anger could build up inside one person, except for herself. At least she got some release from some of it. Wesley held it all in until it exploded. Not a good thing to do, her counselors in prison had explained to her. Outlets helped the need for violence. She kept reading, entranced by Wesley's need to pour this out on paper.

The next entry was dated from October 2001. She almost spilled warm tea down her front reading the first lines on the page. _"I tried to kill Fred yesterday. They all said it was demon possession, but I knew better. Billy Blimm just brought out the things that needed to be kept hidden. It didn't take me long to take my anger out on the one person that least deserved it. But isn't that what humans do. Take out their anger and frustration on the innocent and helpless. Fred proved to be neither one of those. Living in Pylea those long years has made her resourceful and strong, something I never could be. She'll never speak to me again after the atrocities I committed against her, that I was going to commit against her once I caught up with her. I can never set foot in the hotel again knowing that she is not safe with me in the same room. She will always look at me and flinch. I have ruined any chance of being with her. Will she ever forgive me?"_

Faith shivered in acknowledgment. Hadn't she done the same thing to him a little more than a year before this incident? Had taken his innocence, if only figuratively, made him see the world just a little differently? Wesley hadn't deserved to be on the other end of her fists. But he had been resourceful, just like Fred had been, if only to take the unwarranted punishment that she meted out. Now she wondered how the two had gotten around that incident and had remained close. Time and a common bond had worked for former watcher and slayer.

Aching head blinding, Faith decided that a long, hot shower and bed was all she needed to chase away the bad demons in her head. Her muscles relaxed after the shower had finally turned cold. Lying down on the cool sheets with just a dark t-shirt between her and the soft bed, she drifted off without too much trouble.

The dreams wouldn't leave her alone. She thought about her time in Sunnydale, all the violence she had committed. How she had killed that man, tried to blame Buffy for it. Her taste for the bad, including trying to turn Angel and almost strangling Xander during sex. Her escape to Los Angeles, only to torture Wesley and battle with Angel. The torture had seemed so sweet at the time, to only turn on her quickly. She had seen what she had done to her former watcher the next day, seen the look in his blue eyes. She remembered each punch, each cut, each taunt. All the things that had gone through her mind touching his body, needing some kind of release, whether it be sexual or death.

She'd never forget the haunted look in his eyes as the police led her away into an interrogation room. That same look had remained in her dreams, until he had surfaced at the prison. Taking that look from his face could have been something she finally accomplished. He looked a little better before she left for Sunnydale. Oh, how she wished she had come back. Regrets made her chest feel heavy, like the burden of his death could never be lifted.

* * *

Wesley watched Faith's dream with wide eyes of astonishment. It explained why she holed herself up in his former apartment. Guilt racked even her dreams. She had dug herself a hole, which she might have trouble climbing out of.

"I can't watch, Wes," Cordelia called out to him from the door.

"Fine. Don't worry about me."

"Yeah. I need to go deal with my own insane basket case. Good luck," she said as she pushed the door of the cottage open.

He didn't even hear her leave as he concentrated on Faith's punishment of herself.

"Faith, you have to stop this," he whispered, hoping that her subconscious heard him.

He entered the bedroom, wanting to try and stop her thrashing. It looked like the poor woman hadn't slept well in weeks. The dark circles under her eyes hurt him that he may have been the cause of her grief. She sobbed quietly into her pillow, but still asleep. He wanted to touch her badly, to stroke her back, and take away the pain. Being non-corporeal, he couldn't touch a thing in this world. So he used his voice to soothe her hurt.

"Faith, shh." Her thrashing stopped, but her limbs were still restless. "That's it, love. Just sleep. You need to rest," he told her softly.

She sighed in her sleep, settling in against the pillow finally. Her dream had faded, to be replaced by a deep sleep. If that were all he could give her, then it would be a big step in her healing. One thing that he understood now was in their connection, he could feel all of her pain. Every time he opened himself to her, he'd feel that pain and depression coming from her. So he just wouldn't have to feel empathy towards her. He would want to solve her problems, just to stop the pain and anguish poring from her heart.

What was it like to feel that from Angel, he thought? He was surprised that Cordelia was still standing. Faith had only a few short years to build up to this. Angel had centuries. He'd pore over the book he had been given, try to make her life more meaningful and happy.

* * *

"Is it ready, master?"

"It will be, in time. We will have vengeance against them."

Five very scary demons sat around a circular table, each with a ring on what passed as fingers. The blue veins on their hands throbbed with each word, each beat of their evil hearts.

"The wheels are turning. They will not know what hit them. The infiltration will be the final blow."

Another one's eyes glowed with the words. "Make sure none of them survive this."

"Don't concern yourself. All is going according to plan. The vampire will fall, along with his companions."

The five shook their heads in agreement. All of them at once pulled away from the table, chanting an ancient chorus of revenge. Down the hall from the ceremony, in a room devoid of nothing but that instrument of revenge, something dark and evil moved through the air.


	10. Prison Break

Chapter Ten – Prison Break

Darkness. Nothing like it. To be seeped in blessed darkness forever. Angel hadn't even turned a light on the past couple of weeks, just wanted his mind to go blank, his body to forget the battle that had been lost. Spike would come and go, snark a comment his way, then leave the blood on the table. Illyria had visited him on several occasions, just to sit, never speaking. Then Faith. Oh, Faith, with her optimism, her we have to save the world spiel. She could shove it up her ass for all her cared.

He'd lost weight, not drinking as much as he should have. Maybe he should shave his head like Spike had done. They'd be twins then. He chuckled at the thought. With the way his mind was working at the moment, he wouldn't put it past Spike to stake him for just suggesting the twins thing.

As he laid his head back on the bed, he wished for good dreams. Soft dreams, dreams where his friends were all alive, all well, all happy. Happiness had happened, a few times that they'd all been together. They had been good together. The time after his first office had blown up and they all huddled in Cordelia's apartment. Cordy and Wes. The times after Darla had finally left, but before Pylea. They had returned to some kind of happiness, with the addition of Gunn. Right after Pylea, after he had grieved Buffy's death, but before Connor arrived. They had been happy again, with the addition of Fred. He could probably count up the days on his fingers though.

His mind wandered some more, until he fell under, wanting to dream of happiness again. Maybe that was the key, he thought. If you think happy thoughts right before you fell asleep, you had happy dreams.

He sat up in bed, wondering why he had woken up so quickly after falling asleep. Since all he did was sleep and brood, it didn't make any sense. Something wasn't right. The edges of the room softened. The light coming from the bedside wasn't on before. Was he now dreaming?

"Hey," a soft voice floated from the other side of the room.

No, no nightmares tonight, he begged. He tried to wake himself up.

"It's OK. Not a nightmare, unless you sass me, then who knows."

Cordelia came into full view now, just as beautiful as ever. Oh God, he missed her. She and Wes were the only ones who knew him, really knew him. Yeah, Spike _knew_ him, but not in that sense of a real family. Kind of like that uncle or annoying nephew that is related by blood, but that's it.

"Not a nightmare? You sure? Cause I've had just about as much of those as I can stand," Angel said truthfully.

"I know. I saw them. Listen, I'm not going to lecture you. It's just," Cordelia talked as she walked over to the bed to sit beside him. "You need to pull it together or so help me I'm coming down there and beating the crap out of you," she finished with yelling.

Angel shrank back away from the now yelling Cordelia. When she was in a mood, there was no stopping her. Only buying her clothes would ever get her out of that mood. She was dead, so that wouldn't work.

"Why are you yelling?" he asked patiently.

"Oh God, do I have to list all the fuck ups?"

Angel winced, knowing quite well all of the fuck ups. And Cordelia was here to remind him of every single one of them.

"And no, I'm not going over them in detail. You've already flogged yourself over them in typical Angel fashion. No use in that department. You need to get out of this funk and help. Remember, that's what we do."

She wanted him to get back to the mission? The mission that he sacrificed most of his friends for? What, was she crazy?

"Just a little crazy, and yes, the mission. Hey, I didn't take on those visions for nothing, buddy. Besides, you can do it. And the others need you."

A souled vampire, an ex-god, a comatose fighter, and a depressed slayer. Wow, he thought, like he'd really add to the mix.

"Yeah, and I can hear every conversation that goes on in that little brain of yours buster. They all need you. Just like Doyle and I needed you. Just like Wes needed you. And Fred. Just like Connor needs you."

Connor. He was still out there somewhere. Happy, going to college. That should have sustained him through all of this. Maybe Connor was why he hadn't ended it all yet.

"There's so much happening now. I need you back. Please?"

Cordelia, Ms. I-never-beg-for-anything, just said please. Whatever she wanted him to do, it must be bad.

"What makes you think that I won't mess it up again?"

"Well, maybe you will. You're just a man, um, pire. So it's possible. They all need you. Don't give up that easily."

He had given up this time. Right after Holtz had taken Connor, he had given up, just for a short while. But he tried things to bring his son back, so he hadn't totally given up.

"I don't know what to do. Everything is different. Where do I start?"

"You can start by leaving this prison and going downstairs. OK? For me."

For Cordelia. The woman he would still do anything for, even if she was dead and asking in his dreams.

"OK. Say I go downstairs. Then what? Do I go on like nothing has happened?"

"No. You remember. You go on."

"And you know that it will work because?"

"Hey, I'm Cordelia. Higher being, buddy. Doesn't get any better than that."

Cordelia took his hands in hers. They were so warm and soft. He hadn't felt her warmth in so long. He missed it so much.

"Downstairs?"

"Try it." Cordelia got up and started to move away.

"Do you know what happened to . . . ?" Angel asked Cordelia, very slowly, like he didn't want to know the answer to the question.

"He's alright. He's with me."

Angel swallowed tightly. He somehow knew that this was how Cordelia would end up. She would go to heaven and help the helpless still. But he wasn't sure until now how Wesley would end up. And it scared him that he would be the cause of more strife for Wes.

"Thank you, for that. I . . . ."

"I'll take good care of him," Cordelia told him, trying not to cry, but not succeeding. "He and Doyle are getting along great."

"Driving you crazy, right?"

"Yeah, but it's the way it should be."

"There's so much I want to say to you."

"Shh, I know. Just know that I'm always here. Always."

Angel woke up, shooting up in bed, looking around the gloomy interior. He flipped the light on, trying to figure out if any essence of Cordy was left for him to see. If he concentrated, he could smell her scent. It could have been left over from long ago. That didn't matter. She was still there, somewhere, if just in his dreams. And it made him feel a little more at peace.

* * *

"Tell you what, pet. The next time you follow me somewhere, just come along. No stalking."

Spike and Illyria made it back to the hotel in one piece, no thanks to Illyria's wanting to take out the other demons. He had to pull her back from taking on the rest of the little gang that had followed them.

"I would not have been able to snap the demon's neck."

"We need to talk about that little trick. You see, I was on it."

"And I took the kill away from you."

Man, could she get inside of his head sometimes. It was spooky how she knew what he might be thinking.

"Yeah. Don't concern yourself. No matter."

Spike walked to the kitchen in the back, opening the refrigerator, pulling blood out and pouring it in a mug. He put it in the microwave and set it for a minute. As he turned, he bumped right into Illyria. She must not be finished with the conversation, he thought.

"We must have a battle plan."

"Could have been random. Let's just keep our eyes and ears open, shall we."

Illyria touched her ears to see if they had indeed closed when she wasn't looking. "I do not understand your idioms."

"We need to be cautious."

Illyria shook her head in acknowledgment. Spike reached for the microwave as it pinged. Before he retrieved it, he decided that it needed something a bit more to spice it up, so he rummaged through the cabinets.

Turning around, he watched as Illyria opened the microwave door and grasped the mug. She immediately dropped it, splattering blood all over the floor and their clothes. He glared at her as she looked down in wonder at the mess she had just created.

"Illyria, you need to be careful. You could have burned yourself," Spike said as he bent down to clean up the shards of pottery. Illyria joined him, but quickly straightened herself.

A drop of red blood hit his hand as he picked up the broken pieces. Must have gotten it everywhere, he thought as he picked up the largest pieces. Until he looked up at Illyria holding her hand. She had cut her small hand on the palm.

"I do not understand," she slowly managed to say.

"You're just bleeding a little. Must have cut yourself on the cup is all," he tried to reassure her.

"It is red."

"It's blood. It's supposed to be red," Spike slowly told her, then realizing that should not be the case.

Spike took her hand in his, raising it to smell it. It smelled human. Spike took a napkin to stop the bleeding. Illyria looked into his eyes, asking for an answer to what might all of a sudden make her blood that shade of red. Not just red, he realized, but human red.

* * *

Faith woke up to birds chirping, sun brightly showing through the windows. She had actually gotten enough sleep the night before. Getting up out of bed, she decided that she needed to visit Gunn today, since she hadn't been there in a couple of days. The world just looked a little brighter with a good night's sleep.

She had her routine down for the last four weeks. Get up, shower, eat breakfast, look in on Gunn, come back for lunch, maybe visit Spike, then read until she tired. One month, which meant she still had two to go before the rent was due. By then, she would figure out what in the hell to do.

Dressing, she chose a pair of jeans and a striped oxford shirt. No one had noticed how she had taken to wearing an item of Wes's clothing. Might as well get some use out of them, she thought. Besides, she hadn't brought that many items of clothing from Cleveland.

Arriving at the hospital, she waved to the on-duty nurse as she walked by. The staff knew she came every day or so to sit with Gunn. With a diary in her hand, she pushed Gunn's door open, only to be greeted by a nurse. No Gunn.

"Hey, where's Charles Gunn?" A feeling of dread crept over her.

"Oh, they're just performing some tests. He should be back shortly."

Faith had never seen this nurse before. She had made it a point to make friends with the nurses, so that if anything happened, they would call her first. Luckily, nothing had happened. But he still wasn't out of the coma.

They wheeled Gunn in not ten minutes later. Faith could tell that he had lost a lot of weight. Being on a liquid diet wasn't good for one keeping weight on. It was a miracle she hadn't wasted away to nothing when she was in a coma. She figured it was because she was a slayer that caused that to not happen.

The orderlies repositioned Gunn comfortably, then left. The new nurse checked to make sure everything was in order, and promptly left the two of them alone.

"Hey, Chuck. Brought another installment of 'The Life According to Wesley'. The long-winded son of a bitch. I think we were at the place where you guys had taken down some beast. Not like that wasn't always the case, but this one was oozing pus like mad. Hope it didn't get on Queen C's outfit. Man, could she pitch a fit."

So Faith read to Gunn for a while until her voice gave out. So she just sat and watched the monitors beep and the IV drip fluids into his body. She must have drifted off, because she thought she heard a voice and quickly came awake with a jolt.

"Watch where you're throwin' that thing, will ya," the stationary figure on the bed mumbled.

She was still trying to shake the cobwebs out of her mind to hear it right. Maybe her mind was playing tricks on her.

"Gunn?" she tentatively asked.

"Two n's. Remember that. Stick figure Barbie and C3PO can stay out of my way." More mumbling, but Faith understood every word, but not exactly what any of it meant.

"Chuck, it's Faith," she told him.

He hadn't opened his eyes, but he obviously was making some noise now. The first he had made since Faith had been visiting him.

"Duck, English."

Faith touched his arm, shaking him a little to get his attention. "Gunn, I'm right here. Wake up. Open your eyes and look at me." She moved her hand down to his and squeezed. He squeezed back.

"Good squeeze. Now, how about the eyes. Let me know you're in there somewhere."

His eyes didn't open.

"Damn stupid ass vampire's gonna get us all killed." At least he was still mumbling.

"Dammit Gunn, open your eyes. There's a demon in here. I need help."

The monitors around him showed that his heart started beating faster. He had actually heard her. As she looked back at his face, his eyes slowly came open.

"Must have happened," he whispered.

"What? Gunn, it's Faith. You remember me?"

"He got us killed. And I'm in hell."

"Very funny. Only the hospital."

Gunn turned his head to look at Faith now. His eyes still were glazed over from all the drugs being pumped into his system, but he saw her.

"Hey, Faithy. What's shakin'?"

Those are the best words she had ever heard. He recognized her, he was awake.

"Let me call the doctor." Faith pressed the call button.

"I hate hospitals. Where's everyone?"

Not something she would answer right at the moment, since the monitors seemed to be on overload. He was working just to stay awake.

"Back at the hotel. Just stay still."

A different nurse hurried into the room to check on Gunn. Faith stepped back, glad that something had finally gone right. Gunn was awake. She needed to tell Angel. It might bring him out of his funk too. If there was a bright side, than this was it for the moment.

Gunn stayed awake for another twenty minutes, and then promptly fell asleep. The doctor assured her that he would probably wake up more and more, but his body would need to rest. So they'd take it slow. So Faith decided to tell Angel and Spike that Gunn was getting better. Good news almost made her skip to the hotel.

As she entered the lobby, a figure in a suit stood up from the circular couch. And he wasn't whom she wanted to see.

"Why are you here?" she asked, putting enough anger in her voice to scare most people away.

"Hello, Faith."


	11. I Hope You Dance

Chapter Eleven – I Hope You Dance

Robin Wood turned to look at the slayer. He was dressed to the nines, suit, tie and all the trimmings. Not at all like she had seen him in Sunnydale. Buffy had told her that he was the principal of the high school, but by the time she had arrived, school was closed and the town was almost deserted.

"Didn't you get my message?"

"Loud and clear. I just wanted to see how you were doing."

Robin walked closer. She could smell his expensive aftershave, see his watch that must have cost a fortune, and noticed that the suit must have cost a pretty penny also. She never knew he was such a clotheshorse.

"Fine. Now what the fuck do you want?"

"New look for you." He pointed to her outfit. Gone were the tight, cleavage seeing tops. The shirt she had on made her feel a little more in control of herself and emotions, made her feel closer to peace than she had been in years.

"Yeah, different."

Robin looked around the lobby, like he didn't like what he saw. "Why are you here? You didn't come back. Giles told me . . . ."

"I really don't care what Giles told you. I quit. It's as simple as that."

"I see. But it's really not that simple, Faith. You know that. You are the slayer."

Faith snorted, knowing that Robin was looking to start a fight with her. And she knew the status of all the other slayers. That guy doesn't know jackshit. Never did, she thought.

"Nah. Not THE slayer. But a slayer. Someone knock you upside the head too hard one night?"

Faith kept her eyes on Robin, but felt around with her senses, trying to establish whether he had brought friends, or any of the other Hyperion residents were home. None were on the first floor as far as she could tell, which made her feel a little better. But still the attitude of Robin just didn't sit right. Something was definitely not right with the former slayer's son.

"Remember, Faith. I'm your watcher. Now, why don't we get your things and talk on the way back to Cleveland."

Oh, that dirty son of a bitch. He wanted her to go back to Cleveland. Must be something going on that he needed her expertise to fight. He'd just have to find someone else to crack skulls for a while, a long while. The watcher bit was just too much for her to handle. Should she ignore it, she wondered? Or should she bait him so she could take him down hard?

"Watcher, my ass. Give me a fucking break here. This is Faith you're talking to. Not some wide-eyed potential you want to get into their pants."

"The council assigned . . . ."

"I really don't give a flying fig what the council decided. I already told Giles my decision."

Robin moved closer to her, trying to use his size to his advantage. She wondered how fast he would go down if she swung her leg just so.

"You really need to reconsider that decision."

What she wasn't expecting was for Robin to take his fist and punch her in the gut. Now that was playing dirty. The problem was Faith didn't punch him back. The punch hurt like hell. Usually she just shrugged them off and hit back. Collapsing to the ground, Faith wanted to get up and beat the hell out of him. She just didn't have the strength.

"Think about it," Robin told her as he passed by her on the way out. "And one other thing. I need Pryce's diaries. They belong to the council."

"Fuck you," Faith mumbled under her breath.

Robin quickly hurried out of the building. Faith sat on the bottom stair for what seemed like hours, but was only minutes. Something was definitely wrong with her. She didn't have the strength to fight back.

"The smell of evil permeates that human," Illyria said from the shadows.

"You heard?" Faith couldn't believe it. The blue thing heard it all.

"He is not like the ones who watch. He is not like my guide."

"Your guide? Listen, whatever you are, I don't need your help."

"I did not offer my assistance, human." Illyria looked down at Faith, sneering with disgust.

Faith wanted to get up and wipe that sneer off of Illyria's face. But in light of the fact that she couldn't even do that to Robin, who was just a human, then taking on the demon wasn't that smart on her part. She needed to find out what in hell was wrong with her.

"Wouldn't take it if it was offered, demon."

Mexican stand off in progress, thought Faith. If Illyria knew though that she was weak as a kitten, she just might drop kick Faith across the room. Slowly, Faith rose to her feet, not giving away any of her problems to the demon. But she could match her sneer pretty well. Since that was all Faith had at the moment, it would have to do.

"Not the sight I was expecting," a familiar voice said from the top of the stairs.

Finally, Faith thought. That dumbass was out of his brooding and back in the fight. He was her best shot at helping.

"Me neither. What made you come join the party?"

"A little bird in my ear." Angel slowly came down the stairs, wincing at bending his right knee.

Faith couldn't help but smile. The fog that had descended on her seemed to lift just a little. Sure, all hell was probably going to break loose, since slayer powers were not around at the moment. That would just be her luck. But she had Angel now to fix it.

"Trouble," Faith started to tell the vampire.

"Always," he said with a sigh.

"Big trouble, as in lost slayer powers, the council is around to bug us trouble."

"What?" Angel asked, obviously expecting something much bigger and world ending by the look on his face.

"Asshole Robin Wood came by to take me back. Left me with a gift in the form of a gut punch. I couldn't hit back."

Illyria just stared at the two conversing. Faith didn't know if it was wise telling the demon about her powers disappearing. But Angel trusted the demon to be in the room, so at that point, Faith would trust Angel.

"Did he inject you with something, like they did to Buffy?"

"Nope, unless he did something with that punch."

"Damn. I'm glad I woke up when I did."

"I have some good news," Faith told him, rubbing her sore stomach.

"There hasn't been enough of that around here."

"Gunn's awake. Out of the coma."

Angel breathed a sigh of relief, even though technically he didn't breathe.

"It's gonna be hard to protect him if Wolfram and Hart go after him." Angel was right. Now that Gunn was awake, the bad guys might find him and take him out. And she was in no shape to protect him.

"So what do we do? Sit here while all of our enemies take us out one by one?"

"Not in the plan, Faith. We hit the books. Figure out how to get your power back."

"And figure out what in blazes is going on with Illyria," Spike said from the hallway near the tunnels.

"OK, can it get worse?" Angel inquired.

"I took Illyria's blood to this guy I know."

"Why would you do that, Spike?"

"Long story," he said as he strode into the room fully.

The four of them stood around the circular couch, none wanting to sit because of the nervous energy that flew through the room.

"Tell me the short version then."

"Illyria cut herself. When I smelled it, it smelled familiar."

"Such as?" Angel asked.

"Human familiar. You're losing your demon side, Blue."

"You do not know that," Illyria added.

"Just a guess is all. Guy wasn't sure, but it sure did look human."

Faith sighed in defeat. Someone was taking all of their powers away from them. Illyria must be strong for it to happen to her too.

"Great. So we've been turned into girls. This just sucks," Faith said out loud to no one in particular.

"Two less fighters. Makes the odds even worse."

"Like they weren't before, Angel." Faith had a point. With just the four of them to fight, how could they defeat another enemy right then?

"When have the odds ever been in our favor, Peaches?"

"We all hit the books. See if there's some spell or something that is causing this."

The rest of the gang shook their heads in agreement. "You have any idea where to start, big guy?" Spike asked Angel.

"No idea whatsoever. God, I really miss him," Angel threw in.

Faith winced, knowing exactly to whom Angel was referring. She missed him too. Because he would find a way to fix this mess with the books.

* * *

"Bloody dammit all to hell," Wesley yelled, but not having anyone to vent to.

He stood not twenty feet from the gang in the hotel. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Someone had taken away Faith's ability to protect herself. And Illyria was changing into something, no one knew. Having human blood in her system could not be good. Would that mean that her powers would ebb just like Faith's?

He wished he could pick up a book, any book and start looking. Some outside force was at work to bring the survivors down. His charge looked dejected as she walked with the others to the office. If she couldn't protect herself, how on earth could he protect her? Being non-corporeal really didn't give him many options.

He followed them, going right through the wall to keep up. That skill had not been fun at first, but Doyle had told him that it was possible. Being a ghost did have its advantages. As he watched them start to research, he noticed the look in Faith's eyes, like she was giving up on herself all over again. She had lived too long with a slayer's power. He didn't see how she would change her ways any time soon.

Angel sifted through several good selections, but Wesley knew of several more that might help. He couldn't touch anything, move anything. Looking at the book Spike chose, he froze. Then it clicked. Spike was the answer. Spike had managed to move things in his non-corporeal state. What did he do? Wesley racked his brain, until he thought about Spike's comment of concentrating really hard. Would that work?

Wesley put his ghostly hand up to the book that he would choose, and concentrated like his life depended on it. Nothing happened. Then he concentrated on it like Faith's life depended on it. The book moved slightly, wobbling in place until it sprang out, flying across the room to smash on the floor, barely missing Spike's head in the process.

"It worked, sort of," he cheered to himself.

The others in the room were not so positive though.

"OK, what just happened?" Angel asked the others.

"Place is haunted. Figures," Spike answered.

Angel slowly walked over to pick up the book that Wesley had flung across the room. As he turned it over, his eyes widened in surprise.

"Think someone is trying to tell us something, Angel?" Faith inquired of him.

"Yeah, I think so," Angel said, smiling like he knew exactly what or who had managed to give him the book he needed. "Let's start here."

* * *

"Uh oh. He was so not supposed to do that," Cordelia told Doyle as they sat watching Wesley and the others.

"Hey, give the man a break. He's new. He'll get it."

"Yeah, this is Wes we're talking about here. He'll push the boundaries until we all get in trouble."

"What happens if we all get in trouble?"

"You don't wanna know. Let's just say, no helping anyone then. As if you don't remember what happened to me."

"Oh, well maybe you should tell the guy what's the what."

"Easier said then done."

The two sat in front of a big screen television, watching the scene unfold before them. Cordelia knew that Doyle always wanted one of these contraptions, but never could afford it. Now he could use it with abandon. They could see lots of interesting things, including their friends' lives.

Cordelia came closer to the television, like she could see better if she put her nose to the screen. "That shirt Faith has on looks familiar."

"Yeah, used to seeing her dressed for success."

"Faith? Success at what? Stripping?"

"Well, there's perspective, and there's perspective. Isn't there, sweetheart?" Doyle took a bite of popcorn as they watched the gang research. "OK, this is officially boring. Why do we need to see this?"

"See what they've come up with, stupidhead. Man, you are dense sometimes. Oh, no, she didn't." Cordelia's face lit up in recognition.

"Didn't what?" Sometimes Cordelia could be very cryptic.

"That's not her shirt. That belongs to Wes. I gave that to him for Christmas two years ago. I cannot believe that she took that."

"Doesn't belong to him anymore. Remember, dead?"

"Oh, yeah. Right. So what do we do now? Who's pulling all the shenanigans now?"

"Hey, you're the expert, Ms. Let's-watch-the-researchers. We could just record it."

Cordelia smiled at the thought. "Yeah, hit the record button. This is boring."

"Attention span of a flea."

Cordelia smacked the Irishman on the arm hard, eliciting a groan for her effort. So Wes could get himself into some trouble? What else was new in her dead life? He was always getting into trouble when they were alive. Knives, gunshots, getting bit, he just didn't know when to be subtle, when to stop. He'd go non-stop until he dropped instead of taking a break. It was like the dog her uncle had when she was growing up. No matter what, that dog would chase that squirrel, thinking he'd get it on the next try. The dog tried every angle, every trick in the book that he knew. The squirrel was just smarter. Until the day the dog decided that the best way to catch it was to lay in wait. The dog had learned from its mistakes. And the squirrel was well, squirrel food until she had screamed at the dog to let it go. So Wes would watch and wait, trying different things until something worked to help his friends. But he was going to get a slap down from the Powers if he stepped across the line.


	12. Resting Here With Me

Chapter Twelve – Resting Here with Me

Hours after finding nothing to help them with their questions, Faith went back to the apartment, just to see if the watcher had any other books that might help. Her brain was on overload from trying to help. She wasn't much, since she didn't have the skills to translate anything, much less the Latin or other old languages the books were written in.

She was scared. That much she knew. Her powers had never ebbed. She had never gone through the Cruciamentum, having turned eighteen just after she had put herself in a coma. So no trial for her. Now she could totally sympathize with her counterpart. It must have driven Buffy to hell and back. But B had made it through the test with flying colors. Probably made her a better slayer also.

As she rounded the corner to the door, she noticed that she was not alone. Standing outside the door were two suspicious looking characters trying to break into Wes's apartment. Dammit, did they ever get a break? Must have to do with the damn Council, she thought. Well, she'd give them all the diaries from his time as a watcher. She'd keep the rest though. Those didn't belong to them. They belonged to Angel and Gunn.

Try as they might, the two couldn't get through the door. She knew that the bolt on the door was flimsy and would probably break without too much effort. These guys must be total amateurs. They finally gave up and walked down the hall towards her. Faith hid in a dark corner, watching them pass by. She quickly made her way to the apartment, looking over her shoulder to see if they might double back.

Unlocking the door, she jiggled the bolt again, and it gave a little. Why on earth could they not just break the door down? That was puzzling. She gingerly closed the door behind her, looking around to see if anyone else had managed to break in while she was gone. Everything looked to be in order.

Maybe Wes had some kind of spell on the place where people that weren't invited couldn't enter, kind of like the ones involving vampires. There was no other explanation. The thought made her feel a little safer, like maybe he was looking out for her, even though he would never know that she was living in his apartment, using his things, reading his personal diaries.

Going through the volumes on the shelf, she didn't notice anything that might help in the cause. She thought about calling Giles on this one, but realized that if Wood had anything to do with her slayer powers disappearing, then Giles would not be the answer. Could he be involved also? She hoped that he would have enough sense to steer clear of those yahoos. But he had tried to kill Spike at one point, thinking him to be a liability.

She picked through the food that she had bought and fixed herself a sandwich. It sat in her stomach like lead, but she knew she needed to keep up her strength. The moves she had learned over the years hadn't just disappeared over night, so at least she had some protection. She would just have to play it safe, and not venture out at night. Not making herself a target was key.

Placing a chair against the door, she cleaned up her mess from her meager dinner, and then checked all of the windows. Maybe she should move back to the hotel, she thought. Angel and Spike would be around if anyone attacked her. But she realized that she didn't feel safe in either place. The hotel was so big, so many rooms unoccupied, so many ways to break in. Here, she had a couple of windows and the door.

Sitting down, she watched television for a while, trying to calm her nerves. But that didn't work, so she picked up another diary, hoping that Wes's writings would do the trick. Opening up a random one, she turned to the first page. It was dated in April 2000. The date meant nothing to her, other than to note that it was before she went to prison. He talked about Angel being given a drug to induce euphoria, making him act like Angelus. It made her giggle when she read that they had chained him to the bed for two days, just to make sure the drug had worn off. Wes had acted the hero in this story by knocking Angel across the room and trapping him in the elevator shaft. Score one for the watcher, she cheered.

Turning the page, she eyed her name. Now she knew why the date seemed familiar. She'd been sent to jail not long after it. The entry started with just one word. _"Faith_." That was all it said for at least half a page, until his pen had started up again. _"She tried to kill Angel today. Arrow to the back. Fortunate for the three of us, she wasn't quiet enough because if Angel hadn't heard her, the arrow would have hit him square in the heart. I couldn't have done a better job. Faith was so obviously back in slayer mode. Evil slayer mode. She has awoken from her coma, which no one in Sunnydale had decided to inform us."_

The next page was blank again, like he didn't want to write about what happened next. She knew vividly what happened next. Had relived that day and night over and over in her brain almost nightly. The next page, the writing had started up again. It was less neat, a little shaky. _"Angel rescued me from Faith. I was never more relieved at seeing the vampire than I was at that moment. She had taken from me almost about as much as I could handle. I almost screamed, but knew she would hurt me even more if I uttered even a sound. Torture came in all forms, I knew this firsthand, not from her mind you, but I knew how that kind of mind worked. She wanted to hurt me, and I was the instrument of her downfall. I failed her as a watcher. I was her mentor, and I did nothing to bring her back from the brink. Did I deserve all that she did to me? I will be asking that question of myself for quite some time."_

Wesley was playing the blame game, one of which he was a master. He blamed himself for her downfall? Typical of him. She hoped that before he died he realized that he wasn't to blame for everything that happened to her. She kept reading. " _Angel wants to help her back on the path to redeem herself. What right does he have to do this? She tortured me for hours, having fun while doing it. She somehow was aroused by it. I knew that her slaying had caused her to feel this way, having listened in on one of her conversations with Buffy. Did she ever notice how much I wanted her in Sunnydale? God, I hope that was never the case. Now, she is broken. I despise her for her treatment of me. In time, she could come around. With enough incarceration and counseling, she could be redeemed. As the police led her away, I could see the remorse in her eyes. Maybe there was hope for her yet."_

"Fuck," Faith said out loud.

Was she that obvious? She wondered why he was never around after she had patrolled and on the few times he was, Giles or one of the others was with him. He looked at her like all the other males looked at her. That she knew. But she ignored him mostly, especially when he was in watcher mode. The time that she saved him from the wicked looking spider though, that was for him, because she knew that he could have cared for her if she hadn't gone evil. She could have just let the thing take his face off like one of them had done to the cop. She didn't want to see that face marred, hear him in agony as it killed him. Maybe she did feel something for him back then.

As she lay down that night, she cuddled herself around another pillow, trying to find that inner peace to be able to sleep. The day's turmoil had made that difficult, which had her staring at the bedside clock for hours until she finally went under.

* * *

Wesley sat beside her the whole time she read the diaries. Her face was pained with emotion, knowing what it must feel like to relive that time again. He imagined that she relived it in her dreams too many times for him to count. He certainly had. But the image had faded for him somewhat over time, to be replaced by other visions. He didn't know which was worse, her torture, or his torture of himself.

He was glad that the spell he had performed right before he had died was still in effect. No one other than who he authorized could enter his apartment. They'd have to bring someone who had knowledge of magicks to achieve that feat. With time, it would be broken. He just hoped that Faith would take care until her powers were fully restored.

He had reread the part of the instruction manual about dreams and how much he could speak with her. It was a very vague section, mainly to do with how much he could or couldn't tell her. Since there wasn't much to tell in the first place, he just wanted to talk to her, make her more at ease. Angel waking up from his fog had helped matters, but he concluded from recent occurrences that there was trouble on the horizon.

He sat beside her on the bed, concentrating to look into her mind. The scene there bothered him even more. She was reliving it again. He had to stop the nonsense before it went too far.

He shivered as he saw himself in that chair, bleeding from the cuts that she had inflicted with the shard of glass. As he drew his eyes from his broken body, he watched as she took the glass and shoved it into her own skin.

"No," he yelled, wanting her to stop the torment.

"What? Isn't this what you wanted?" she asked him, her eyes hooded from his.

"I never wanted you to hurt yourself, Faith. Just put the glass down. There is no need . . . ."

"Yes, there is a need. I did that to you," she said, starting to cry. She pointed to the Wesley sitting on the chair, in a daze from the injuries she had inflicted.

"We've been through so much, Faith. You've come so far. Beating up on yourself is not going to help matters." He walked over to her, trying to reason with the dream Faith.

"I just wanted all the pain to end. Make it stop," she told him as she collapsed to her knees.

Wesley came down to her level, careful not to touch her, since he couldn't anyway.

"You have to make it stop, Faith. Please, Faith. I forgive you."

She lifted her head to look into his eyes. "Don't forgive me, you bastard. Don't." She grabbed his shoulders, wanting to push him away.

He wasn't expecting her to find him solid. He thought that her hands would pass right through him. Her hands slapped down on his shoulders. This was not supposed to happen. Did he read the manual correctly? It said nothing about being corporeal during dreams. He must have missed that. How many other things did they not tell him?

"I do."

Faith pulled him to her, sobbing her heart out on his chest, just like she had in that alley with Angel right after the scene she was dreaming. "I'm sorry," he heard coming from her mouth over and over again. He couldn't help but embrace her, to give her some comfort. She must have cried for a long time, because his knees were cramping from the kneeling position he had been in. He slowly lowered himself to the floor, taking a shaking Faith with him.

After what seemed like hours had passed, Faith slowly raised her head. Her makeup was almost gone in her crying jag, shirt still had blood on the front. His and hers, mixed.

"Why do you keep doing this?"

"Doing what?" he asked her.

"Forgiving me. I don't know if I would have the strength."

"You had the strength to tell me you were sorry. Will you forgive me?"

"If you pull that guilt trip crap this time, so help me, I will punch . . . ." Faith's face drew up in surprise. "No, not what I would do now."

"I wasn't the best watcher for you. You needed so much more than a schoolboy."

"Giles couldn't control me either. And he was the experienced one."

Faith laid her head on his shoulder, curling herself up into his lap for comfort, just like a small child. Was this what she needed back in Sunnydale? Someone to listen to her? He certainly didn't do that correctly.

"No one's perfect. Not even Giles." Both laughed a little at the statement.

As Wesley looked over, his former self disappeared from the picture. Now all he could hear were the raindrops hitting outside. It had rained that night too. It washed away some of the blood from his body as he found his way to the hospital. That made it look like he was just mugged, instead of tortured.

"How can I stop dreaming about it? I don't want to see it again," Faith asked him, trying to find the answers.

"I'm not sure what to tell you. It's something you may have to live with for the rest of your life." Not very encouraging words, Pryce.

"Will you be here when I do?" He hoped that he could see it every time it happened, so he could comfort her and tell her that he forgave her.

"As much as I can, Faith."

"I miss you," she told him as she ran a hand through his hair.

How his body became warmer, he didn't know. This was her dream. Did she control what happened? Was he totally under her influence? The book was too damn vague.

"I miss you too," he answered in turn.

"Make it go away," she implored him as she buried her face in his neck.

He wished he could make it all go away, every bad thing that had happened to her in her life. But that was not why he was here. He had a job to do, which did not include what she had in mind at the moment.

She ran her hands down his back as her mouth kissed his neck in earnest. He had to stop her, before the dream got out of hand.

"This is not going to make it go away, Faith."

"But it will make it feel better. Just for a little while."

He couldn't argue with that. It could make her feel somewhat better. As she took his mouth with hers, this would make him feel better too. Tears still fell from her face, making her taste salty. He wanted to take those tears away too. She moved to straddle him on the floor, still clinging to his lips like they were a life preserver. He had to stop her. This was a mistake that he couldn't have her make.

As she moved sensuously against his body, his hands came up to cup the back of her head, pressing her even closer to him. "Wes," she moaned as he held her tighter.

"Yeah, Wes. Snap out of it," another voice said in his ear.

Faith was gone. The pleasant pressure that had built up was still there, but she had disappeared into the ether.

"Hello, lover."


	13. I'd Sure Hate to Break Down Here

Chapter Thirteen – I'd Sure Hate to Break Down Here

(Thanks to Julie Roberts)

Wesley turned to look his former lover in the eyes. "Lilah."

"Look who was a bad boy. You really push those boundaries, don't you?"

"Are you going to spank me or tell me why you brought me here?"

Lilah glided over to where he appeared not moments before. The room was richly appointed, fire roaring, the best of everything. If he was guessing, this must be hell. Of course, with Lilah appearing, that was his biggest clue.

"I could do both."

Lilah always knew how to make the most of a situation. Even in death, she was still beautiful and still deadly. If one could be more deadly after death. He reached out to grab her by the neck to stop her forward progress.

"No games, Lilah. I'm not in the mood."

"I want to make you a deal."

Wesley sighed at her comment. This is the way she always started a conversation with him. It was when she didn't start a conversation that got him into trouble in the first place.

"And I want to see if that head is firmly attached to your body. Want to test that theory?"

A little fear passed through her eyes, until she was able to tamp down on it, which she did quickly. But he knew her well enough to know that something else was brewing with her. She just didn't want him to join her.

"Wes, I just want to talk to you. I've missed you."

He let go of her, roughly shoving her away. As he paced the room, he thought about what kind of punishment this was. That must be why he was there. And maybe to test his loyalty? Why weren't things just simple in the afterlife?

"Get on with it. I haven't the time to listen to your drabble."

Lilah pouted a little, and then went into lawyer mode. "We've been watching you. The people in this dimension think that you would make a wonderful addition. You would have everything you would ever want."

"Oh, then I want Fred and Cordelia back, plus no Wolfram and Hart to speak of."

By the look on Lilah's face, that wouldn't happen. "A little out of our realm. But you would have all the comforts . . . ."

"Not making an impression, Lilah. Send me back to wherever I was before."

"You would have me also, to do whatever you wanted."

Lilah actually smirked when she said this. Wesley actually laughed after she said it. Her eyebrows knitted together when she was royally pissed off at him. He must have hit a nerve to cause that to happen.

"Listen, Lilah. Let's not pretend that what we had was anything but convenience. I knew that, you knew that."

The look on her face said it all. She didn't think that he was a convenience. And he was just saying it to make her angrier, so she would blurt out the real reason he was wherever he was.

"Fine. Play it your way. But when it all goes to shit, you'll be burning in hell along with good ole' Knox. You both can pine away for something you can never have."

"Don't you ever speak to me about her again. Send me back," he growled at her, voice low and menacing.

"Wes, she can't hurt you," Cordelia said from behind him.

In an instant, he was back in the cozy cottage, birds chirping, sun shining through the windows, him sitting in his chair. It should have cheered him up to be away from Lilah. Instead, it just reminded him more of the many reasons why he was in the situation he was in.

"Why is it that people like her can go on, exist in some other dimension, when Fred . . . ." Wesley couldn't get out the rest of the sentence before putting his hand over his face.

"It's so not fair, I know. There was nothing any one of us up here could have done to prevent it. I am so sorry it happened. I loved Fred too."

Kneeling down to his level, Cordelia took his hand away, and replaced it with her own, on each side of his face. "Every time you took a drink out of that bottle, every time you cried yourself to sleep, I wanted to go to you, but I couldn't. She didn't deserve any of it, you didn't deserve any of it. When I gave Angel that vision, I thought it would all turn out for the best. But every time I picked the vision apart, the more I saw. The more I knew, he knew. I watched my friends die one by one. And there was nothing anyone could do to prevent it. The vision was crap."

Cordelia started crying in earnest now, matching the look of pain on Wesley's face. She buried her head on his chest, just like Faith had not long ago. Whereas he didn't join Faith with tears, he did with Cordelia. It felt good to finally release all of that pent up emotion welling up inside of him.

As Cordelia started calming down, Wesley's mind started working again. She gave the vision to Angel. He knew how to take the Circle of the Black Thorn down. He may have even known the outcome. Which meant he knew that Wesley would die.

"He knew, didn't he?" Wesley whispered his revelation to Cordelia.

"Yeah, he knew. That was one of the reasons why he didn't bring you in until the last minute. It all made sense to him right after Illyria tried to go all Chernobyl on you guys. Every single thing that I showed him in that vision happened."

"He knew that Fred would die."

"I don't think he understood at that point that she would die. He knew about Illyria. He knew that she looked like Fred."

Wesley got up to pace the room, leaving Cordelia still kneeling in front of his chair. Could Angel have prevented Fred from opening the sarcophagus? Could he have prevented that last battle from being as bloody and damaging to the rest of them?

"He could have prevented it."

"I know what you're thinking. No, he couldn't. And as I said, neither one of us figured it out until the very end. And yes, he did know that you would die."

Wesley was hurting now. Cordelia had given Angel a vision, to carry on the mission they each had sworn to uphold. If Angel had come to him, told him that he was going to die that night, Wesley would have told him that he already knew. His lie to Illyria was just that, a lie. He fully expected to not succeed in taking down Vail. He expected to do a little more damage to the evil mage. But he never expected to walk away. It would have just been a bonus if he actually had.

He didn't know what to think about Cordelia's involvement in the whole vision thing. If she hadn't given him that vision, could things have been different? There probably would have been some other crisis that might have taken the whole team out, not that fighting most of the worst demons in the world hadn't done that job already.

"I'm surprised that Lorne didn't know any of this."

"Blocked him. He couldn't see any of it. Not something I agreed to, mind you. Not fair to him."

"What do we do now?"

"Well, first. You need to stop with all the book flinging. You know how much trouble that could get us in?"

"Not much anyone can do to us now. Already dead, you know."

"You wanna go back with Lilah?"

That scared him. To spend eternity tormented by her gave him the chills. And it had nothing to do with whether he had feelings for her or not.

"Not exactly the position I want to be in. One more thing, Cordy. Did Angel tell anyone about his vision and what it contained?"

"I was the only one who knew what was in the vision. No one else knew. Made for really scary, hellish dreams, let me tell you."

Wesley helped Cordelia back up to her feet, tears fast drying on her face.

"Because if anyone else did . . . ."

"Yeah, I know. Hell to pay. Little Ms. Slays-a-lot would stake him on sight."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

* * *

Faith gathered up all the books that might help and made her way to the hotel. As she walked in, she noticed that Spike was showing Illyria how to use the toaster. She didn't think that the blue demon needed to eat. Well, neither did Spike, except for blood, but he did all the time.

"So, when it's done, it pops up. Takes a little experimentin' to figure out how you like it."

"How I like it? I do not understand," Illyria answered back, turning her head to study him.

"Well, some people like it practically burnt to a crisp, while others like it lightly toasted."

Faith laughed at the vampire's explanation of taste. "And how would you know this Spike?" she called out as she dropped the books on the counter.

"Living with those damn girls for as long as I did, you learned to do things to survive. Such as fixing them food whenever they wanted."

"What? So they wouldn't stake your ass?"

"Anyone knows that to stake a vampire, you must hit the heart."

Faith snorted at Illyria's comment. Living with all those potentials in the mist of the crisis they all went through was hard on everyone concerned. In the end, all of the potentials became slayers, and Faith's destiny became the destiny of thousands. Being the chosen one or two as the case may be made Buffy and herself carry a big burden. Now the burden was lighter. So why didn't she feel any different? Maybe because the slayer power had still made her unique. And since she didn't have that power at the moment, she really was just a girl.

"Any progress?" Faith asked the two.

"Angel might have a line on a spell book with something that could help."

Finally, progress. Angel may come through for her again. She hated feeling useless.

"Good. Then I'm going to visit Gunn. I'm sure he could use some company."

"I would like to see Gunn also," Illyria announced to the two.

"I don't know if that is such a good idea, Blue." Spike was right. Faith thought it was a terrible idea.

"He just came out of the coma. I don't want you to put him back into one."

"I'll come too. I'll have to take the sewers to get there. Blue, you're with me."

Spike stuck his finger up at Faith, like he was trying to will her to behave. Faith did as she pleased, which at the moment was not liking Spike's pet demon one iota.

* * *

As Faith walked into Gunn's room, she realized that the blinds were closed so the sunlight could not shine in. Sitting by the bed was Angel, watching Gunn sleep away the day.

"Hey. Didn't know you came to visit."

"First time. He hasn't woken up since I've been here. Are you sure this coma thing is over?"

"I don't know about you, but the sleep thing was kinda important until two dumbasses came in and woke me up from a dream about me and Ms. September."

"OK, now that's just gross, Chuck."

Gunn opened his eyes, looking around at the two beside his bed. "You told me this wasn't hell, so why does he look it?"

"Never takes care of himself. He will now, or I'll kick his butt."

Spike peeked in the door, with Illyria right behind him. She was dressed in clothes, blue tint gone from her face, but not from her hair. Sort of made her look a little punk, Faith thought as they entered the room.

"Hey, Charlie boy," Spike waved as Gunn turned his head.

"Oh, look. The other vampire that makes my life a living hell, plus his blue demon. Wow, you guys really know how to show a man a good time."

Angel winced at Gunn's sarcastic comments. He obviously was still raw around the edges, Faith concluded, for Gunn's comments to actually mean anything to him.

"We thought we'd throw a party in your honor. But you have to not be in a coma," Faith quipped back at the demon fighter.

"I don't intend on bein' in a coma anytime soon, thank you very much. Been there, done that, need the pain killers."

Gunn's face drew up in pain as he tried to move a shoulder.

"Do we need to call a nurse or a doctor?" Angel said quickly, ready to hunt one down for him.

"Nah. I'm good. It feels good to feel pain. At least I'm feelin' something. So, when was the funeral? I miss it?"

Faith swallowed a gasp, trying to not let on to anything that Angel did not want to tell Gunn. The mask on Illyria's face dropped considerably to reveal a look of anguish. Spike just looked away all together.

"We didn't have one. There wasn't a body to have one for," Angel told him.

Gunn closed his eyes in grief. "Oh God. Could this get any worse?"

"The body was gone when I went to retrieve it. Only the jacket remained," Illyria answered.

"Probably wanted to bend, spindle and mutilate the body just to humiliate us. Although you think they would have shown their cards by now," Spike added to the conversation.

"Spike, not liking the visual, thank you," Faith wanted the vampire to know.

It made her sick to her stomach thinking about what a sick fuck demon could do to a human body. The human body that she happened to care a great deal about. He needed a proper burial.

"So we need to figure out what happened to it, and retrieve it if we can. And we need to get Faith's slayer abilities back on track. And figure out why Illyria's blood is changing." Angel sighed at the thought of all that work.

"Y'all really are lost, aren't you?" Gunn retorted.

"Oh, yeah. Just like old times, huh?" Angel answered him.

"You have a plan in the works?" Gunn asked the vampire.

"Yeah, I'll find my best friend's body, have a damn funeral at night, because, hey, a vampire. And then I'll sit down to read a bunch of dead languages that I couldn't understand if my undead life depended on it so I can save what's left of my crew. Just what I'll do."

Silence reigned in the room while Angel twisted his hands together. Faith didn't want him to apologize for the comment. But she knew he would.

"I'm sorry. That was uncalled for."

Everyone shook their heads, knowing what he was going through, even Illyria on some level.

"If we split up, maybe we could make more progress?" Faith suggested, hoping the vampire would take her help now.

"Hey, good idea. You up for it?" he asked Faith.

"Yeah, I'm good."

"Take Spike and nose around Vail's place. Maybe you'll come up with something."

Illyria moved to stand beside Spike, like she wanted to go with them. Faith did not want her tagging along for anything.

"Illyria, if you could, I'll need your help with some of the texts."

Illyria shook her head in agreement.

"I'll just lie here and have the nurses pamper me." Gunn tried to move again and was rewarded with more pain. "And have them give me more drugs."

Angel smiled just a little at Gunn's attitude.

"He died in the main hall. You will see the stain of his blood on the demon's floor."

"How do you know this, Illyria?" Faith asked her.

"Because I was there when he died. I could not prevent it from happening."

So he hadn't died alone, Faith thought. Although dying in the arms of your love's body that was inhabited by a demon must have been surreal in the greatest. Looking over at Angel, she could see the look of pain and something else in his eyes. Like there was something he wasn't revealing to her. She'd find out in time. If they had time, that is.


	14. Blindsided

Chapter Fourteen – Blindsided

"Damn, this place is spooky," Faith commented on the structure they had just entered.

It looked abandoned. Neither she nor Spike sensed any demon activity. Thank God her senses hadn't been disrupted by her loss of power. And having Spike along made her feel a little safer. He was as strong as ever.

"Yeah. It got spookier since the last time I checked it out," Spike told her as he looked over his shoulder at her.

He was in the lead, pointing the flashlight in front of them.

"We're not gonna find a body, are we?"

Faith hoped that they wouldn't. It had been a little over a month. That image of a decaying body was not something she wanted to encounter for real.

"Let's hope for Percy's sake that we do eventually. The bloke does deserve a funeral."

As they went along the corridor, they checked each room, each looking abandoned just like the front had. Everything had been moved out. The walls were even blank. The place seemed to have been elegant once upon a time. Being a mage must be profitable.

"If we do . . . ."

"I'll take care of it, don't worry. Illyria was very thorough though. And my last adventure here didn't turn up anything. One question though?"

"Yeah, Spike?" Faith answered as she gently opened another door to another room.

"How'd you know that I called the watcher Percy?"

Faith laughed a little. "Hey, I read Harry Potter too. What, you want me to call you Malfoy?"

Spike chuckled. "Not a lot to do in that basement after they chained me up. Dawn lent me the books."

They came to the end of the corridor, which held a double door. Spike slowly opened it, shining the light in to see if there was any danger. When he was satisfied that no one would jump out at them, he marched forward. Faith shivered as she crossed the threshold of the room.

"This it?" she asked the vampire.

"I guess. Illyria never told me what happened exactly."

Spike's light finally found the large, now dried bloodstain on the floor. The flashlight had illuminated the fact that there had been some kind of battle in the room, considering the smashed wall and burn marks in places.

"How strong was this guy Vail?" Faith wondered.

"Strong enough. Big man in these parts. Angel didn't think that I could handle him."

Spike not handle a big bad? She wondered what Angel's thought processes were at the time. Obviously Wes couldn't handle him either. She wondered what possessed Angel to send in Wes in the first place.

"So he sent in Wes instead," Faith told him.

"Yeah. Something about betraying him. Wes was the man for the job. It gave him a calling card to get into the building."

When had Wes betrayed Angel? Faith wasn't around Angel much once Willow had restored his soul. They had to get to Sunnydale and help Buffy. Faith didn't know that the two's relationship had been strained. She did know that Wes had changed so significantly that when she first saw him she did a double, no triple take. Could have been the reason for his about face.

"Angel hasn't been much on the sharing lately. Wonder why he did it?"

"This is a waste of time," Spike said, resigned to the fact that nothing had changed.

Faith bent down to touch the spot where Wes had died. The stain was so large on the floor. She knew what it was like to almost bleed to death. That knife in her stomach had done a lot of damage. Reaching down to touch the floor, her hand found something she wasn't expecting. As she raised the hand to look at what she might have touched, she saw the impossible. Her hand was covered in blood.

She must have screamed, because Spike pulled her up and away from the spot in a hurry. Turning her hand over again, the blood had disappeared.

"What? What happened?"

Faith swallowed. Did she just have a hallucination? Was her mind playing tricks on her? At one time she had Wes's blood on her hands. Could that be what her subconscious was thinking about?

"There was blood, on my hand. It was still fresh. I don't understand."

"There's nothing there now. I don't smell it."

Spike looked at her like she had lost her mind. But she saw what she saw. No wonder the hairs on the back of her neck stood up as they entered the room.

"We should go," Faith said in a small voice.

The longer she stayed, the more concerned she was for her sanity. The place really did give her the creeps.

"I want to check out one more thing," Spike told her as he headed to the far end of the room.

As he approached the wall, Faith noticed nothing that would have attracted Spike to the spot. It was just a blank wall. But Spike had noticed something. He started to explore the wall with his hands.

"Paydirt," he said as his fingers started prying at the wall.

Finally, frustrated that he wasn't making any progress, he pounded the wall until it gave. Behind it was a passage.

"Secret passage," Faith agreed as Spike finished prying off the hidden door.

"Thought it was funny that the room only had one way in or out. Not very practical. What'll you say?"

"Lead on Malfoy," Faith quipped, happy to be out of the room.

* * *

Angel settled down in the office with the tome that he had obtained from his book source. It contained many spells, one of which might help Faith get her power restored. He didn't know what to think about Illyria other than they would just have to watch her and see if anything happened to her. She sat quietly reading not ten feet away from him.

Sometimes he didn't know what to do with her. Kind of like his attitude towards Fred when she had first come to the hotel, newly arrived from Pylea. He didn't know how to treat her, wanted to make sure she was comfortable, wanted her to know that he would be there for her, that he would do anything in his power to keep her safe.

In the end, he had failed to save her. Her life, her very soul had been forfeit to bring forth the demon sitting before him. The action not only took down the girl, it took out the rest of his team as well. Wes had never recovered from Fred's death and Gunn had been one of the links in the chain reaction that led to her demise. Fred had held them together after Cordelia had died. They all fell apart when she was gone, including himself.

Illyria shifted in her seat. Her posture was perfect, her face a study in concentration. He still didn't know what to do with her. But she had their backs in that alley. She had fought along side them, and saved Gunn by taking him to the hospital. For that he would be indebted to her. He couldn't help feeling less than hospitable to her though. Wes's pain had been his pain, with Wes's only magnified by the nth degree. Now he was in a better place. Somehow he knew that Wes was with Cordelia now. And nothing could hurt him.

* * *

Wesley hadn't thought much about going back to the scene where he died. It wasn't something that he wanted to experience again. When he was there before, he hadn't been frightened, just frustrated that he may not be able to stop the evil demon inhabiting the dwelling. He made the decision to just watch Faith for the time being. If she needed him, he would go running, or as the case may be, showing up in his ghostly form. So he held back, just watching for now.

"Hey, you know you can't spend all of your time watching her," Doyle called out to him as he entered the cottage.

Wesley just glared at him and returned to the small screen that held Faith's form.

"I guess you could, if you wanna. Get to be kinda boring, don't cha think?"

"Why didn't anyone tell me that I could be corporeal in dreams?"

"Oh, found that one out, did ya?" Doyle smiled at the other man.

"Yes, at the most inopportune moment actually."

Doyle sat down beside Wesley. He also started to watch Faith's progress in Vail's mansion.

"Well, technically you're not supposed to. Better to not. Creates a precedent. Just use it sparingly. You'll be fine."

Wesley shook his head no. "Why do I have the feeling you're not telling me everything?"

"Now why would you get that impression?"

Wesley returned to the screen, not wanting to miss anything. He was becoming more worried about Faith and her lost power. She still seemed to act like a slayer. What on the earth would take her power away? Someone like Vail could do it, or many of his cronies.

Spike had accompanied her, which was good. He was strong enough to protect her from most things. He really didn't understand why the two of them went back to Vail's in the first place. The battle was over, he was dead. Nothing could change that.

As he watched Spike find the hidden entrance to another part of the mansion, he wondered what the two might find. Did the mage hide priceless artifacts or more of those orbs that changed people's destinies? No one else knew about Connor except for himself and Angel. Did Cordelia and Doyle know too? That would be something he would have to discuss with Cordelia at a later date.

Spike punched through the wall, pulling away the plaster and wood that covered the hidden entrance. After he was able to wrench the rest of the door open, he and Faith disappeared down the corridor. At least their little adventure was interesting. Maybe they would find out more about Vail.

* * *

Faith followed Spike down the dark, dank corridor, following the flashlight as it bounced along. When they came to a fork in the road literally, Spike pointed to the right side and started striding down the next corridor. Spike suddenly stopped, making her smash into his leather coat.

He put his finger up to his lips so she would know to keep quiet. Turning off the flashlight, Faith's eyes adjusted to the dimly lit corridor. She took Spike's hand as they slowly made their way to the sound of voices.

"Someone's coming," Spike barely whispered to her, dragging her into an alcove to hide them.

After the demon passed them by, Spike peeked out to see if the danger had passed. Creeping up the passage, Spike kept a tight hold of her. If she hadn't seen how protective he was of Buffy, she wouldn't believe his actions at the moment. He seriously did not want to see her hurt. Maybe that was why the vampire hadn't informed his greatest love that he was alive and well. It would hurt Buffy to see him. He'd made the ultimate sacrifice for her.

Spike stopped her again with a hand and a nod.

"Stay here," he ordered. He never gave her orders.

"Nope. Not gonna."

"You have the strength of a pissed off kitten right now. I just want to check things out is all. Please listen."

He sounded so much like Wes. Wes always asked her to listen to him, especially back in Sunnydale. She never did. When she finally did listen to him, he never had to tell her with his words. A look into his deep blue eyes told her everything.

"Yeah. I'll stay. Be careful."

Spike moved off quietly into the darkness. Faith stood in the corridor for what seemed like hours. Since she wasn't a patient person it only seemed like that long. Creeping forward, she heard chanting off in the distance. That was never good in her book. Had that been what Spike was off to investigate?

A flurry of movement ahead of her brought her up short. Someone or something was heading straight for her. Silently opening a door, she slid through, plastering herself to the wall behind the door in case someone came in.

Her eyes adjusted to the dim light coming from a small bulb. The room was devoid of everything but a table in the middle. Her heart hitched up a few notches when she noticed that something was atop the table, sheet draped over it.

It could not look like what she thought it was. This scene was so much like a horror movie, she just wanted to run and never come back. But by the time she found Spike, got back here with Angel, this would be gone. They may never get the opportunity again.

Inch by inch, Faith walked over to the table. Taking hold of the covering, she gently raised it to look under. As a hand swung down off the table, Faith jumped back, stifling a scream that was trying to come out of her mouth.

* * *

Wesley jumped too when he saw what Faith saw. "What in blazes is going on Doyle?"

Doyle seemed surprised too, because he jumped a little. "Bloody hell. She needs to get out of there."

Wesley knew he had to take care of that, warn her that there was danger.

"Where are you going?" Doyle asked, worried look replacing the surprise.

"Faith needs help. She doesn't have any slayer power. I am not going to see her hurt."

"You can't change what may happen," Doyle implored him to listen.

"Do you know what's going on?"

"Well, no."

"Then butt out," Wesley told him as he walked forward and disappeared.

"Damn rash thing to do."

Doyle returned to look at the screen, but it had gone blank. Since Wesley wasn't there to watch it, it wouldn't show Doyle any of its secrets. He just hoped that the man knew what he was doing.

Wesley walked through the thick walls to find Faith against the back wall, eyes wide and fearful. He didn't know what exactly the two had been looking for, but this was obviously not what Faith wanted to find.

"Wes?" Faith whispered, tears gathering in her eyes.

Oh God, she could see him. How on earth? But she didn't look his way. She looked at the cloth-draped table with the hand sticking out. It all made sense to him now. They hadn't found his body yet. She and Spike were on a salvage mission.

Faith got up her courage again to cross the room to the corpse lying on the table. She passed right through him as she made her way to take the cloth all the way off. Stopping for a moment, she gathered herself back up and proceeded forward.

Wesley had to find a way to stop her from looking at whatever lie beneath. It wouldn't be pretty. It couldn't be. It had been too long. But why was his body here, in this dank room below Vail's mansion?

Faith was shaking by the time she made it over to the table. Avoiding the hand, she lifted the cloth again, careful to not come into contact with the body. She slowly pulled it off, closing her eyes after she had accomplished most of the task.

Wesley looked though. And what he saw shocked him. Now he saw why he sensed danger.

"Faith, get out of here this instant," he yelled.

There was nothing for him to grab on to, nothing to fling across the room to get her attention. She stood stock still, eyes closed, not wanting to look at what she had found. Gradually she started to open her eyes. All Wesley could do was look with her. He moved to stand directly in front of her, willing her to see him, if only for a moment.

Concentrating as hard as he could, he kept chanting in his mind for her to run. She started to shake her head no, like maybe on some level, she had heard his pleadings. But she was rooted to the spot still.

"Faith, I order you to get your ass out of here as fast as you can," he screamed directly into her face.

She looked around the room, looking for something. "I have to run?" the question came out of her mouth.

But before she could move, the body on the table twitched.


	15. Just an Illusion

Chapter Fifteen – Just an Illusion

Now Faith did scream.

* * *

"Doyle, what's wrong?" Cordelia asked as she rushed into the cottage.

"Watcher guy Wesley took off after Faith. Something is wrong. Deadly wrong, Cordelia. We have any way seein' what's happenin'?"

Cordelia shook her head at all that Doyle was trying to tell her. "Start from the beginning."

Doyle took a big breath to settle himself. "We were just watchin' that beautiful girl, Faith. She was in this mansion, looking for something. Well, she found something alright. A body. I don't know whom, but Wes tore out of here. We both sensed something wasn't right. That girl is in grave danger."

"Oh, damn. There's not any way to see. Did you see Angel anywhere?"

"No. It looked like she was alone."

Cordelia paced until she came up with a plan. "I'll try to contact Angel, get him to find Faith. That's the best I can do."

"What's a beautiful girl like you doing here with that guy?" a familiar voice started, turning the two towards him immediately.

Cordelia sneered at the newcomer, and pushed her way past him. He grabbed her arm to stay her from leaving his sight.

"Now where do you think you're going?"

"As far away from you Lindsey as I can get," Cordelia told him as she elbowed him in the stomach.

Lindsey doubled over in pain as she pulled the door open. "You can't interfere," he managed to get out.

"Not sure she's listening. You've double crossed too many people, lawyer."

"I'm not here to double-cross. I'm here on a job." Lindsey waved his hand out the door, and then followed to find Cordelia.

Cordelia stood in the flower garden, looking around for something. She walked forward again, and then stopped. "Why isn't this working?"

"You can't go anywhere. You gotta stay here," Lindsey called out to her.

"This is so your fault. Wait until I kick your ass."

Cordelia stomped over to Lindsey. He stood his ground, but flinched a little as she put herself right up into his face.

"You can kick my ass all you want. But I can't let you interfere."

"Why?" she yelled. "Something's wrong. I have to get to Wes."

"The PTBs seem to think something's wrong too. That's why they sent me. They don't want anyone else getting hurt, or worse."

"Can't be any worse, you stupid git," Doyle shot back.

"You have to trust me, please?" Lindsey begged.

"No. No trusting. You let me go, Lindsey, or so help me you will regret it," Cordelia pointed out to the dead lawyer.

"I can't," he simply told her. "I didn't shut the system down. They did. You're right. Something is happening. Your friends aren't the only ones in danger. We all are. If whatever plan they have succeeds, the realms between heaven and hell will collide. That's all they told me."

"Why send you, you jerk?" Doyle wanted to know.

"What? You think you're the only ones trying to make amends, make things better? I made so many mistakes, really horrible mistakes. I've been working my way out of hell. And believe me, you don't want to go there anytime soon."

* * *

Angel tried to take notes, like Wes always did, trying to find some kind of pattern as to why Faith's power had ebbed. The only conclusion he could come up with was a spell. So they needed to do some kind of spell to break the hold. But none of them was powerful enough to do a lot of spells he had found. Since he had once accidentally opened up a portal to Quor'toth, he probably was the most likely candidate. He hoped he had it in him when the time came.

Illyria had walked away moments before, quickly and quietly. When she did that, it surprised even him, because he was the master at it. The manly shout he heard next did surprise him. They had a visitor. Maybe that's what she had heard.

As he walked out of the office, he spotted Illyria holding up a man in the air. He just hoped the man wasn't a cop, because Illyria would take a lot of explaining.

"Illyria, put him down," Angel told her.

"He is evil."

"Aren't we all," Angel quipped before he touched her arm to tell her that he meant business.

Illyria immediately complied with the gesture. Angel was encouraged that she actually had listened to him that one time. Except after she let the man down, she punched him hard in the stomach. The man doubled over in pain.

"No killing the human, Illyria."

She looked at him like he was daft. Walking back a few paces, she looked to Angel to take control. "I believe that he is yours now, half-breed."

Angel helped the man stand, depositing him on the couch. "Sorry about the reception committee. She punches first, asks questions never."

"It's alright," the man wheezed out. "I'm looking for Faith."

Angel's senses perked up a bit. He probably didn't want to know whom the man was sitting beside him. "Hmm. Why?"

The man sat up straighter. "I'm Robin Wood. Faith's watcher."

Angel actually did snort when he heard that one. Probably because he knew that it wasn't true. She had a watcher. He was now dead. The man in front of him didn't know squat about Faith, even though he thought he did.

"You know, buddy. That's quite funny, actually, if I wasn't really pissed off right now. Now you can take your watcher ass, and leave."

As he stood for a confrontation, Angel glared at the man in his best don't-mess-with-me stare that usually scared most of the demon population, not to mention all of the human ones.

"Listen, I just need to talk to her. Just talk. You a boyfriend or something, because this is just really getting old."

"What makes you think that? Name's Angel," he told the man, putting as much behind his name as he could to make the man really think about who he really was.

Angel stuck his hand out to shake Robin's as he stood too. Robin politely took it, and tried to automatically jerk it back as Angel started to crush the man's hand in his.

"Angelus?" Robin asked, face looking on in horror.

"Nope. Just a really pissed off vampire with a soul, for the moment. Who knows, if I kill you, maybe I'll turn all evil because of that one perfect moment."

Angel let go of Robin's hand and crossed his arms over his chest.

"I'm not here to get into a pissing contest with you," Robin told him as he shook his hand out.

"Sorry. Not the kind of contests I like, cause, hey, no killing involved."

"I just wanted to get Pryce's diaries from her. That's all. After that, I don't care what she does anymore. She's not worth it."

"No, no diaries, no Faith. And it's really good to know that the Council cares that much about its slayers."

Robin cradled his hurt hand in his other hand. "Why would you care about a couple of books? What's it to you anyhow?"

"Because I've had just about enough out of those bunch of losers."

Robin drew himself up, offended by Angel's statement. Angel couldn't care less about the man before him. "We lost everything when the First blew up the Council."

"And I lost everything when I brought down demons you couldn't even imagine fighting. What's left of my family, I protect. Got it?"

Robin shook his head in acquiescence. Angel had been pushed about as far as he could be without committing more violence. "I'm sorry, but I have a job to do. Mr. Pryce's father will be in contact with you for his effects."

Wood slowly made his way out of the hotel, glancing over his shoulder as he did. Illyria stood rooted in the same spot the whole time. Angel wondered why she had taken Robin on, and why she stood by while he was in the pissing match with the watcher.

"Just what we need, the Council breathing down our necks too. Illyria, we should get back to work."

Angel turned to Illyria to see if she was going to follow him. Her eyes were the only things that moved. Right in front of him, she started changing. Her face changed, her hair changed, and at last her eyes changed. At first, Angel thought that somehow Fred had found her way home. That maybe they were wrong about her. But the voice that answered him back was pure Illyria.

"I do not understand."

"Neither do I. Did you just do that?"

"I had no control over it," Illyria told him as she looked at her hands.

She placed her hands on her face, over her throat, over her heart. The pleading look in her eyes made him worry. Something had drastically changed the demon.

"My heart beats."

* * *

Spike had gotten closer to the noise, just not too close. The chanting had gotten louder, but he didn't want to be discovered. Faith was back there somewhere, hiding. He didn't want to put her in any more danger than necessary. He hoped that the poof and Blue found something in those stupid books soon.

The scream behind him stopped him short. It was a human scream. Not that he hadn't ever heard Faith scream before, but it was usually punctuated by a crass swear word. This was an all out, something has scared the piss out of me, scream. Like the ones people would give him as he sank his fangs into their necks. She must have encountered a bad guy she couldn't take and thought that a girly scream would have him running quick.

Spike took off down the corridor like a bullet. Coming around a turn, he collided with a demon with really bad hands. A ring on its finger glowed brightly. The thing struck out at Spike, taking him down with one punch. Spike returned the favor by swinging out his foot, dropping the thing down to the ground hard. The demon groaned in pain as he rolled around. Spike took advantage of the situation by quickly flipping himself up and stepping on the guy's arm, crushing his weird hand. The creature squeaked in pain again, ring falling to the floor after it slipped from the thing's so-called finger. Spike scooped it up, putting it into his pocket. Anything that glowed an eerie light couldn't be good, he thought. And it could be a clue. Then he kicked the guy into unconsciousness.

Taking off again, this time he went more slowly around corners, until he made it back to where he had left Faith. Only she wasn't where he put her. She hadn't listened to his order. And now he had no idea where she went. His nose picked up her scent, so tracking her hopefully would be easy. As he made his way along the next corridor, he came to a series of doors. The last on the right seemed like the correct one. But when he tried the knob, it wouldn't budge.

"Faith," he called out to the slayer, hoping for an answer.

* * *

"Oh dear God," Wesley whispered to himself as he watched the body start to rise from the table.

Whatever someone had done, it wasn't him. That he knew because his ghostly form stood directly before his former self. The thing had jet black eyes, which clued him in that it was evil. He watched as Faith slowly backed away from the reanimated body, shaking her head no.

"This is not fucking real," she chanted out loud.

Faith tried the door handle, but it wouldn't budge. Knocking from outside made Wesley feel somewhat better. Maybe she could get away from it, with help.

She pounded on it, yelling, "Help."

The door vibrated, but didn't open. It must be strongly made, Wesley concluded. He just wished he could open it for her. The body sat on the table, staring directly at Faith, assessing her, studying her.

"Faith," the thing croaked.

It has my memories. Great, he thought. She might think that it was him, coming back to life like some cheap horror movie. He hoped that she had more sense than that.

"He's dead. Do you hear me? You're just an illusion."

The pounding on the door increased. Whoever was out there was interested in getting to Faith. He prayed it was Spike, but he didn't want to leave Faith to find out.

"Don't leave me, Faith," the thing spoke again.

The door finally caved in, admitting Spike in its wake.

"Holy shit," Spike exclaimed, seeing the reanimated corpse sitting on the table.

He obviously didn't like what he saw either. Smart vampire, he cheered.

"Get out now," Wesley said out loud, but knowing that no one could hear him.

He now stood in front of the humans, hoping that he could somehow protect them if the creature passed through him. Would it disrupt whatever spell had accomplished this act?

"We have to get out now," Faith repeated almost word for word.

Spike grabbed her hand and yanked her out of the room, taking off down the corridor to find the door where they had entered not long before. Wesley still stood in front of the being, trying to think of something he could do to stop what was happening.

The corpse didn't look like a dead body. It was pasty, but it hadn't decayed since he had died. Someone had taken great care for that to not happen. It wore the same clothes, minus his jacket. The bloodstain was still apparent on the front of the sweater, knife slash making it gape open just slightly.

The creature moved now, slowly getting up from the table. At first, its legs were unsteady, but it pushed off from the table and walked forward. Wesley braced himself as it walked right through him. He somehow knew it wouldn't be pleasant. For the body to encounter its soul again after death could not be ideal for either. Could he have miscalculated, thinking that he could stop the thing from escaping?

As the body touched him, it recoiled momentarily, but kept on forward. The first touch was searing down to his very being. Whoever had reanimated his corpse was pure, unadulterated evil. It felt like being slammed with the force of the Beast plus some of Angelus to boot. But it was all in his non-corporeal mind. But it had stopped moving. He gritted his teeth, thinking that if he stayed linked with it, his soul would burn up, maybe taking it with him.

"It won't work," a far-off voice cackled to him.

Wesley held his ground, hoping that his two friends had made it out of the building in time. He didn't know why he thought about performing a spell at that time. He had just wanted to stop the thing. But as he started to chant a spell for undoing a curse, the body fell away to the floor with a thud. He sighed heavily, having stopped the body for the time being. He could still see it breathing, which meant that it was alive in some fashion.

As he backed away, the voice now appeared to his left, directly behind him. Whirling around, a fireball was thrown his way. It hit him in the chest, throwing him against the far wall sharply.

"Thought you could still take me on boy. I could piss better magick than that."

Vail was back.


	16. I Don't Want to Be Anything Other Than Me

Chapter Sixteen – I Don't Want to Be Anything Other Than Me

Vail was just as non-corporeal as he was. Magical fireballs must be able to be generated in the ghost world, just as much as they could be in the real world.

"I should have known," Wesley retorted.

"The demon took me out of the one dimension. It didn't mean that I couldn't work in another. How's hell?"

"Wouldn't know. Why don't you go back to it."

"My experiment? You stopped it for now," Vail told him as he floated towards him.

Wesley had to get out of there. Had to find out what Vail was planning. And he had to stop the plan before anyone was hurt.

"You can't run," Vail said as the body started to twitch again on the ground.

Wesley had to stop the body from ever getting out of the room. He willed his hand to take the body's throat and strangle it. Finally, he was able to get a grip and squeezed. He broke another rule. Cordelia would be angry with him. He'd probably even get in trouble, whatever that meant. Might help his case though if he didn't let the reanimated corpse loose on the population of Los Angeles.

"You are a tricky boy, aren't you?" Vail commented right above Wesley's head.

The body reached up, taking Wesley's throat in hand also. Not only was he not supposed to be able to touch anything, which he was, no one was supposed to be able to touch him unless they were dreaming. This was not a dream.

A blinding flash of light encompassed his non-corporeal body, making him shudder. The body below him finally disappeared into the ether. He had succeeded. Somehow he had won. Vail had also disappeared with the body. Did he use magicks to perform the feat? All he had wanted to do was stop what was happening.

Now he could go to Cordelia and Doyle and figure out the next step. A big player was back in the game. From another dimension, mind you, but a major threat nonetheless. As he stood up in the shadowy room, he prepared himself to go back to his little cottage. But he didn't find himself back in that realm as he had wished. His whole body slammed into the wall and he fell to the floor.

The floor was under him, the wall was solid. What the hell was going on? Gingerly, he arose and walked through the now-opened door. Silently he strode through the corridors until he found the entrance that Faith and Spike had used earlier. Every time he tried to walk through a wall, it never worked.

It wasn't until he was back in the large hall, and looking at the dried bloodstain on the floor, that he looked down at his appearance. The sweater he wore that night was stained, ripped. This was not what he had on when he had gone to rescue Faith. As he lifted the sweater, he could see the wound from the knife. Touching it, he saw a little blood on his fingers.

Collapsing on one knee, he drew in deep breaths, trying to calm himself. He was corporeal, that he was sure. But for how long? His heart beat, his pulse raced, his stomach rolled. What had Vail done to him?

He staggered out of the hall and out of the building. Fog had started to roll in over the city, making the streets silent and eerie. Walking in a random direction, he found himself in an area of town he was unfamiliar with. Every noise made him jump. Everything seemed harsh, too sharp to his senses. Vail had pulled him back from being dead. It hurt too much to be alive again.

Leaning up against a brick wall, he took more deep breaths, trying to regain his sense of balance. He had to find Faith. He also had to find Angel, to warn him that Vail was planning something major, probably against the vampire himself right then. And his body was a part of that plan, that he was sure.

Seeing something moving off in the distance, Wesley pulled himself off of the building and started to move again.

"Oh, look. A yummy snack out for a stroll," a vampire said directly in front of him.

He stopped short. Wesley couldn't believe his luck. Brought back to life only to be confronted by another deadly demon. His night could not get worse. Until he looked back and saw three more vampires stride directly towards him. He had no weapons and was shaky from whatever spell Vail had performed.

"Not likely," he told the vampire in front of him.

His fist shot out and took out the lead vampire in one punch. The other three had now come up behind him. He didn't turn to look at them. His options were that he could either run or fight them. His brain told him that flight was the best possible option. His body told him to take the three on, dust them. His body won out.

Swinging out, he punched the first to make its way to him, pushing it back into the other two. He needed to find a stake, or some kind of weapon that would help him dust the four quickly. Running off, he fled down on alleyway. Off to the side, there was a beat-up chair in a dumpster. Grabbing it, Wesley broke off a few chunks of wood, depositing a couple of pieces in his back pocket to retrieve if need be.

The four vampires had recovered and chased his scent into the alley.

"They always run. Makes it more fun when you catch them," one quipped as he came closer.

Wesley held the first stake in his hand, turned away and up his arm so that the vampire could not see it in the dim light. It approached cautiously, but still didn't stop its forward progress until it was standing right in front of him.

"This is too easy," it said to the others as Wesley flipped the stake in his hand and plunged it into the thing's heart.

Dust flew everywhere in the fog, floating slowly to the ground. The other three attacked quickly, not giving him much time to recover from the first staking. He kicked out to take one down as he dodged the smallest one. The last one he slammed hard, making it fall to the ground with a thud. The stake found another undead heart. Two more to go.

The other two weren't going to make that mistake again. They circled him as he stood silently. His watcher's mind assessed what he had just accomplished. Being an everyday normal human being, he probably could have dusted one, maybe two without too much bloodshed. But that meant he would still get hurt. None of the vampires had even connected. Maybe he had just come upon some newly made vampires, or they were just really stupid. The really stupid ones never lasted for very long though. Survival of the fittest applied to the vampire population just as much as it did the human population.

He was fast, that he had figured out. His senses were sharpened considerably. He could hear every scrape of a foot, each twitch of a hand. He could smell their undead bodies. He just knew they were vampires, even if they hadn't been in vamp face. These just weren't slayer powers; these were powers that Vail must have given the body as he reanimated it. And Vail was going to use it for whatever evil he had planned. That body hadn't just vanished. He possessed it, but probably not like Vail had planned.

The two charged him from opposite sides. All three crashed to the ground. One vampire had gained the upper hand and tried to bite him on the neck. The stake Wesley had at the ready flew from his hand as they had landed hard on the ground. He tried to reach another in his back pocket, but his hands were busy trying to keep the one off of his neck. Untangling his feet from the other one, he flipped the offending vampire off of his body. Kicking out, he managed to hurt the other as he scrambled to get up off of the alleyway floor.

Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out another stake, ramming it home into the one that was still on the ground, who had been nursing a bloody nose. The last one started to take off, but before he could make it ten feet, Wesley threw his stake forward, catching it squarely. It exploded in a rain of dust.

He had just slain four vampires. He had never been able to do that before without help from someone else. Especially without weapons at his disposal. None of the four had injured him. Even the slam to the ground should have hurt immensely. But his body felt nothing. Striding out of the alley, he headed off in a general direction that felt safer. He really didn't want to get into another fight with any more vampires.

He needed to find Faith and Angel. To get their help and figure out what in hell to do about his sudden reappearance in the land of the living.

* * *

"Son of a bitch," Spike finally said as they slowed down some after running away from Vail's mansion.

"What just happened?" Faith managed to get out between pants from the running and from being scared shitless.

"Beats the hell out of me."

That totally wasn't what Faith expected them to find. The body had moved directly towards her, had said her name, had told her not to leave. It wasn't Wesley. That she knew. But it somehow knew her. Maybe the place had been playing tricks on each of their minds. Pretty fucked up trick if you asked her.

"So you saw it all? Thought it was just me having hallucinations."

"Shared hallucinations, pet. Not a fun concept."

Both jogged for quite a while, noticing that the fog had started to roll in as they made their way through the streets. As they made it back to the hotel, Angel sat with Illyria on the round couch, actually holding her hand.

"So?" Angel said as he turned towards the two.

Faith didn't like it that Illyria had totally lost all of her demon coloring. It made her look too much like the Texan. But by the look in the demon's eyes, something was definitely wrong. What else could go wrong that night that hadn't already?

"Nightmare, Peaches. Fucking nightmare," Spike answered.

Angel closed his eyes, shutting the rest of them out. Faith didn't want him shutting down again. They needed each other to be able to figure out what was happening.

"Did you find the body?" Illyria spoke up.

Tears formed in her eyes now. Her brown eyes. Funny, Faith had only seen them be the icy blue.

"Yeah," she said hesitantly, watching the demon's reaction to the news.

Illyria bowed her head, bringing up a hand to wipe away the tears. Was the little demon going to fall apart before everyone's eyes, Faith thought?

"Where is it?" Angel finally asked, letting go of Illyria to stand.

"Not here, thank God. Let's just hope it didn't follow us," Spike added.

"Follow?" Angel swallowed.

"I told you, Spike. It was a hallucination." Or at least that's what Faith wanted to believe.

"Hallucinations don't walk towards you. Zombie? Could it have been a zombie?"

"Don't fucking tell me they made him a zombie," Angel cried, racing to the weapons cabinet.

As he opened it, he discovered that nothing was there. He hadn't remembered that it was empty.

"We have a few weapons Angel. If we have to fight it," Faith implored to him as she walked up to touch his arm.

"I want all of you out of here. Go somewhere safe. I'm not taking anyone else down. Do you understand?"

Spike, Illyria, and Faith stared at Angel.

"You think that I fought all of those demons to just walk out of here at the first sign of trouble?" Spike wanted his grandsire to know.

"I will not have another death on my conscious."

"He was my watcher. I am not letting some thing take him over," Faith added.

"Angel, Wesley's body has been reanimated?" Illyria asked, puzzled at the conversation.

Angel turned to look at the group. "Tell us what happened."

"Me and the slayer looked around like you asked. We found a hidden passage that took us down underneath Vail's mansion. Someone's been living down there. Some kind of demon." Spike reached into his pocket to pull out the ring he had taken.

"Found this. Took it off a demon. Ugly creature if you ask me. It glows."

Angel took it from Spike, turning it around in his hands, studying it. "Nice trinket."

"Might be a clue."

"The story?"

"Well, Spike went off to investigate some noises, so I stayed back. Someone was coming, so I ducked into a room. There was a body on a table. And man, it wasn't decayed or nothin'. Damn thing just rose up off that table like it was alive."

"What? Who?"

"Wesley," Illyria whispered.

"No," Angel said with finality.

"Yeah, unfortunately. Scared the shit out of me. If Spike hadn't broken the door down, I don't know what the thing would have done. And something else. It said my name, like it knew me."

"It wasn't him," Angel informed the group like he wanted to believe his statement.

Faith knew that Angel was having a hard time with her story. Encountering zombies wasn't unprecedented. It was just when it was your friend and colleague that made it that extra special creepy.

"So if it gets here, then I kill it," Angel decided. "The three of you get out of here."

"You cannot save him?" Illyria asked.

"It's not him, Illyria. His soul. It's gone. No zombies in your time?"

"No."

"I'm not leavin', Angel," Faith told the vampire.

"And I'm not giving you a choice. Go back to Wes's apartment. Lock the doors. Don't answer unless it's me. Spike, take Illyria back to that guy who did the blood test on Illyria."

Spike now looked at Illyria strangely. His eyes widened in surprise. "Your heart's beating."

"Check to see if she's fully human. If she is, get her to somewhere safe. After I stop the zombie, I'll come and get you Faith. All three of you are leaving this city."

Could anything get worse, Faith thought? Someone was taking them out one by one. Taking their special powers or leaving them weak, leaving them human. How did Gunn and Wesley ever stand a chance against all the demons they fought each week?

"Gunn?" Faith added.

"I'll get his old crew to watch over him. Maybe move him to a safer location once I take care of the first problem. Spike, get them both out of here."

Spike led the two powerless women out of the hotel. Faith didn't want to leave Angel, but she knew she couldn't argue with his logic.

* * *

Wesley stood at the top of the stairs in the hotel, listening to the conversation between the four. So they thought he was a zombie? Since Faith hadn't seen his soul entering the reanimated body that would be the first conclusion that everyone would come up with. Hell, he would have come up with that conclusion too. So he would have to convince them otherwise. Before Angel tried to chop his head off. Since they were his only hope at the moment, there had to be some way to do it.

Heading off to exit the building before Angel sensed him, he made it to the street unharmed. Taking off in the opposite direction, he doubled back to make it to his apartment before the three could. If he could convince anyone, it would be Faith. She hadn't encountered those zombies at Wolfram and Hart when the Beast had gone on his killing spree. Maybe she might be a little more likely to believe his state than Angel was.

As he headed up the back staircase, he avoided any other humans quickly and quietly. But there was no way in the door without the key. So he headed to the windows. Pushing hard, he was able to open one on the third try. The spell he had created right before he died might still be in effect. It was ironic that he was still able to enter his own apartment though. Either the spell had lapsed finally, or it somehow recognized him.

Slowly he made his way inside, trying to not moving anything out of place. As he heard a key enter the lock, he quickly made his way to the bedroom to hide in the closet. That should mask any kind of scent that Spike might be able to detect, he hoped. Faith hadn't moved any of his clothes, he noticed. So he buried himself into the closet deep because the boxes he had placed there so long ago were not in evidence. Then he remembered that she had been looking at the diaries anyway.

He settled quietly when he heard voices in the other room. Then he heard the outer door close. Either he was alone again, or it was just Faith. He hoped that she remained. He heard her enter the room. Then he heard the bathroom door close quietly. Slowly, he opened the closet doors, peeking out to see if anyone was present in the room.

Just as he made his way to the bedroom door, a noise behind him startled him. As he turned he found Faith clad only in a towel, ready to scream her head off at the sight of him. He ran towards her as fast as he could before she could get out so much as a squeak. Slamming a hand over her mouth, he looked down into her eyes.

"Faith? It's me."

Faith screamed under his hand.


	17. This Isn't What You Think

Chapter Seventeen – This Isn't What You Think

He was here. Right here in front of her. His hand was warm to the touch. His eyes big and pleading. And she needed to get away from him, whatever he was as soon as possible.

So she bit him, hard.

Wesley pulled his hand back slightly. Then she kneed him in the groin. She watched as he keeled over, groaning in agony. Then she punched him. He fell to the ground in pain.

"Ow," he wheezed out. "That hurt very, very much."

Faith watched as he panted, lying on the bedroom floor, curled up in a ball. Obviously slayer strength wasn't everything. She still knew a trick or two.

"I don't know who or what you are, but you need to get the hell out of here or else."

"You have to listen to me," Wesley started. "This isn't what you think."

"Get out of here, you, you zombie."

Wesley slowly climbed to his feet, but was still hunched over in pain. "I am not a zombie. Doesn't it look like I'm alive? At least I think I am."

Faith looked at his sweater, at his face. Sure the sweater was covered in dried blood, but his skin surely didn't look dead. It was quite flushed at the moment. Should have asked Angel more about zombies, she thought. Although they must be just as pasty as Angel was.

Wesley pulled the damaged sweater off and threw it to the ground. The knife wound he had obtained in the fight with Vail was still bleeding.

"Zombies don't bleed?"

"No, zombies don't bleed." Wesley swayed a little on his feet. "I don't think humans should bleed this much either."

Faith caught him as he staggered. "Sit down." She pushed him on the bed, and then ran to get the first aid kit from the bathroom.

"Second drawer on the right," he yelled to her.

Faith opened the second drawer and there it was. He knew exactly where it would be. Would only Wesley know exactly where it would be? Her hands trembled a little imagining that the reanimated body in there might be the real Wesley. As she went back into the bedroom, Wesley had laid on the bed, one arm over his eyes, the other over his wound.

"I need to bandage this somehow," she told him as she sat on the bed.

She slapped a bandage down over the wound, making Wesley wince in pain. Do zombies feel pain?

"A little more gently, Faith," he cried out.

"Sorry. Not something I do every day, OK."

Wesley smiled at her. "I am not a zombie. Really. I'm not sure what happened, but here I am. So don't worry about me eating your flesh anytime soon."

Faith jumped up off the bed, wary of what he just said. "So that's what they do? I knew that."

She hung onto the towel tightly, trying to figure out if she could make the phone and call Angel. This Wesley seemed to be fast. But since she'd lost her slayer powers, probably there were people out there that were faster than she was. And she _had_ been surprised to find him in the bedroom.

"You don't believe me, do you?" he asked of her.

"You're dead."

"I know. I was there."

"So. How've you been?"

Wesley giggled. "I think I've gone insane finally. I wondered when it would happen."

"Don't worry. Not insane yet. Unless you start repeating yourself and expecting different results each time."

"That didn't make a bit of sense, Faith." Slowly, Wesley sat up in the bed, wincing at the wound.

None of what was happening right then made much sense to Faith either. But here he was. Back from the dead. She hoped it was he. Because he was really pulling the wool over her eyes if he wasn't who he said he was.

"So, if you're Wesley, what happened when I threw that knife at you, huh?"

"Which one? There were so many times," he replied.

"Only once," she told him, pointing a finger his way.

"You threw it not at me but at the skittering spider on the wall that was ready to take my face off. I thought that's what you were doing at the time. And by the way, could you have at least warned me when you did it?"

"Evil, remember?"

Faith remembered throwing that knife. And Buffy ultimately using it on her to almost kill her.

"Join the club."

"OK, how about how did you get that scar right there?" she asked. Faith pointed to a small scar on his chest near his collarbone.

"Oh God, Faith. Do you know how many times I've been injured?" Faith stared at him, warning him to answer her. "You did it, alright."

So he did remember that one. Figures. At least if he was a zombie, he didn't get mad at the torture memory.

"What about what I said on the way back into LA after you broke me out of prison? Remember that one?" Faith might have him stumped with that memory.

"There were so many things you said. To what are you referring?"

"What did I say after your little demonstration, you jerk?"

Wesley smiled. "Just like riding a biker I think it was," he told her, blushing a little.

Holy shit, it was Wesley. How many other things did she have to ask him? There were things that only he would know. Zombies were just reanimated corpses. He certainly didn't look like a corpse.

"OK. What did you call me after I took that gag out of your mouth?"

"Not something I wish to repeat," he told her, looking down at his hands.

"It was true though. You have to admit that."

Wesley sighed at her statement. "At the time, that's what I thought. You are not a piece of shit, you never were a piece of shit Faith."

Damn, same old Wes. It was he. "Dammit, why? What happened? You were dead. Illyria saw it happen."

Wesley closed his eyes at the thought of Illyria. Yes, she had seen him die. Had given him a moment of peace. But she wasn't Fred, could never be Fred. His love was gone and would never return. He needed to move on and figure out a way out of the mess he was in and fulfill his duty.

"Yes, she did. I was in another dimension afterwards."

Faith sat on the edge of the bed now, wanting to listen to his side of the story. He'd made the right choice coming to her first.

"Were you happy?"

"I didn't really have the time to be happy. Too much to do and all that."

"Figures. No rest for the wicked. Or whatever the saying is. Is it bad? Being dead I mean. I was in that coma for a while, so I sort of know things."

He and Faith could relate on a certain level. "Not bad being dead. Sometimes a lot better than being alive, that's for sure."

"I'm sorry, about everything that happened. I tried to make it on time," Faith started.

"Not your fault."

"Yeah, kinda stupid on your part though."

Now let the blaming begin, he thought. She must have heard the story from Angel.

"Which part might that be?" he growled out.

"You know what I learned from you?"

"What? You actually learned from me?" he sarcastically retorted back.

"Never, ever take on an opponent who is stronger and more powerful without backup. You broke that rule, buster."

Faith was right. He had broken that rule. Knew he was breaking that rule as soon as he walked into Vail's mansion. And Vail had surprised him with something totally unexpected, a knife. It hadn't been enchanted, it hadn't been magical in origin. It was a simple, very large knife, which Vail had twisted into his gut, ending his pain and suffering at the time. It was a total cop-out. He knew that. Death was just too easy.

"So Angel's looking for me?"

"He wants to chop your head off," Faith mentioned as she got up off the bed.

"Wouldn't be the first time," he answered.

"I should, uh, I need to uh put some clothes on. So don't go anywhere," Faith told him as she backed towards the bathroom.

As she slammed the door home, he gingerly got up off the bed and opened the closet door again to find some of his clothes. His bare chest itched like crazy from the dried blood and the pants were just unsalvageable. He grabbed a shirt off the hanger, but stopped as he smelled Faith's unique scent on the shirt. That heightened sense of smell that he had gained was interesting, indeed.

Faith quickly came out of the bathroom, fidgeting around as he pulled a pair of pants off a hanger. The shirt she had on was his, but he didn't want to mention it. That one looked better on her than it did on him.

"If I were to take a shower, would you call Angel, because I don't relish walking out of the shower nude to find a sword at my throat."

"No. No Angel, yet. But he needs to know that you're not a zombie. Might make him feel a little better."

Faith cared about Angel's feelings. Oh, how sweet. Wesley wanted to vomit.

"Not that you can't feel better, you know," Faith continued, obviously seeing the expression on his face.

She had read him like a book quickly. Was he that obvious? Reaching for the drawer, he opened it to find not his undergarments, but Faith's. And there was not much fabric to them either.

"Hey you were dead. I needed the space," she smiled his way, looking slightly embarrassed.

"Going commando too. Oh, the things I put up with," he quipped, watching Faith's reaction to his words.

She snorted in laughter. "Too much information, dude. They're in a box in the closet. You're just lucky I hadn't given them away yet."

"Yes, lucky that my slayer has gone through my undergarments. Very lucky of me."

Faith shook her head in amazement. "Thank God you're not a zombie."

"Why is that?" he asked as he headed to the bathroom.

"You're hilarious when you've just come back to life."

Faith smiled at him and nodded her head, like she was acknowledging his presence and it pleased her. Being alive again may not be as bad as he thought.

* * *

Faith started crying as soon as she pulled the bedroom door closed. Were her senses off? Was that man in there her watcher? He certainly acted like it. He was certainly warm to the touch. As she walked into the living room, she picked up the phone, and then put it down again. Angel would kill him on sight. The vampire had gone through too much trauma to ever believe that Wesley would come back to life. It would take a lot of convincing on her part before she'd let Angel anywhere near Wesley.

She paced as she thought of what to do next. Something had obviously happened in Vail's mansion. She had misjudged completely the scene that had appeared before her. He spoke to her, for goodness sake. And she had run like a scared chicken. She'd have to ask him for the whole story once he was done with his shower.

Wrapping her arms around herself, she wondered how it would feel to be dead. Buffy had been dead and had come back not once, but twice, the second time being dead for months. Willow's spell had dragged her back from heaven, Buffy had mentioned to her one day. Had Wes been in heaven? Had someone dragged him back to the living? She wasn't going to heaven that was for sure.

"You're wearing a hole in that carpet," Wesley called out to her as he entered the room, fresh from his shower.

His hair was still shiny with water and he was still buttoning up his shirt as he walked further into the room.

"Looks as if you already started one," she answered back, looking down at the carpet, hoping that he didn't see her tears.

"Yes, a great way to brood, as I recall."

"Were you in heaven?" she blurted out as he came closer to her.

"Ha. Me in heaven? You must be joking," he answered in a none too serious voice.

She looked up at him, shaking her head at his aloofness. He rubbed his hands over his face, as if trying to contemplate an answer.

"I just thought," she started.

"Faith. I'm sorry. I didn't realize. No, no heaven for me. Not a place a murderer goes."

Faith's eyes widened in surprise. Then she shook her head in agreement. She remembered Spike's commentary about the whole business with Fred dying and Illyria's rise.

"Yeah. I guess not."

"Redemption is a bitch, as they say, even in the afterlife."

"So what do we do, now, I mean?" Faith wanted him to tell her what to do.

"We run," he told her in all seriousness.

"What?"

"There's someone coming. And it's not Angel. At least three, maybe four demons. Large, maybe armed."

"How do you know this?"

"Not sure," he told her as he grabbed her hand.

"Where are they?"

"Right outside the door," he answered as he heard a thud against the door.

The door then shook with great intensity.

"Let's get the fuck out of here. Window?"

"Bedroom," he agreed as he pulled her hand his way.

The door gave way, admitting the demons part of the way. They then stopped because of his spell. It wouldn't last long. But maybe long enough for the two of them to slip outside unnoticed.


	18. Whatever Tomorrow Brings

Chapter Eighteen – Whatever Tomorrow Brings

Angel was getting antsy. There was no sign of any kind of zombies. No sign of Wesley anywhere. Maybe Spike and Faith had imagined what they saw. But he wouldn't put anything past Vail, even if he were dead. The dark mage could make things happen, bad things if he remembered correctly. Why he had trusted Wolfram and Hart to take control of erasing his son's memories was beyond him. They had contracted out with the vile character, making Angel vulnerable all over again. And in the end, Wes had died by Vail's hands.

None of his sources, what was left of them that would actually talk to him, knew of any kind of zombie raising. None of them knew anything about Vail either. Angel gripped the ring Spike had given him in his coat pocket, wondering who he should let examine the thing. It might very well turn out to be a clue, as Spike had told him.

Roaming the streets was his only other idea. With the rest of his team out of the way, he could take on the demon and dispose of it before anyone was hurt. Then what, he thought? Would Vail or whoever had done this still keep sending demons after him to kill him? A bigger plan would have to be put into play. One that didn't involve anyone else. He had already put enough people in danger, already gotten enough people that he cared for killed.

A familiar scent reached his nose. Why on earth she had not listened to him? He had been heading over to Wes's apartment to check up on her, but she obviously felt the need to not listen to him.

"Faith," he growled.

Creeping along the silent sidewalk, he came closer and closer to her, only to pick up another scent that seemed familiar, but was not. He saw two figures running through the park next to the apartment building. It was that same park that Wesley had almost bled to death in after Justine had slashed his throat. Taking off after the two fleeing figures, he lost sight of them until seeing them crossing the next street over.

Using his vampire speed, he circled around to put a halt to Faith's progress. He needed to find out who she was with and quickly. As he stepped out of the shadows in front of the two, he was brought to a halt by the sight in front of him. He drew his sword quickly. When had zombies started kidnapping humans?

"Faith," he yelled as the two approached. "Step away, now."

"Angel, it's not what you think. It's really Wes," she answered.

"He's dead. Now get out of the way."

Instead of Wesley charging him, trying to bite him like zombies did, he shoved Faith behind him. When did a zombie protect a human?

"Angel, listen to her. I don't know how it happened. We need to talk," Wesley replied.

It sounded like Wes, but it didn't really smell like him. It was different somehow. Had he come back like Buffy had that second time? He didn't get too much time to contemplate that question as four very ugly, vicious demons came upon them. Before he could move, Wesley pushed Faith out of the way and took on the first two to arrive.

Angel started to lend some help to the ex-watcher, maybe zombie when he heard a crack of a neck snapping. Wesley had killed the first one single-handedly. Wes kicked out at the second quickly, bringing it down to its knees. When the other two joined in the fight, Angel jumped in, sword swinging. The two of them made quick work of it. Angel was amazed at the speed with which the four demons had been dispatched. It would have taken much longer with Gunn, Wes, and himself before. Now it didn't.

As he finally turned to face Wesley, he noticed another change in him. His eyes were coal black, where before the fight they had been their regular cobalt blue. Something was definitely off. The thing before him must not be his Wesley. He swung the sword up in front to challenge the beast that had taken over his friend's body.

"Angel, I don't want to fight you. Put the sword down and we'll talk."

Faith, who had been standing next to a building, came up to stand beside Wesley. She had thankfully stayed out of the fight because of her loss of powers.

"Faith, you're not listening."

'Yeah, when do I ever? It's him. I swear."

But his senses told him it wasn't. Why didn't she listen to him, trust his judgment? So he swung his sword in an arc to take down the so-called zombie. And missed by a mile. Wesley had successfully dodged, bringing up a fist to his face, taking him down with one punch. His world went black after Wes's foot connected with his head.

* * *

"Dammit, why did you do that?" Faith asked.

"He was going to kill me. Would you rather that have happened?"

"Well, no. But, damn, that must have hurt."

Wesley took a hold of Angel's arms to drag him into the building next to them. "He should be fairly safe in here until he wakes up."

"He is so gonna kill you once we figure this out."

"If we figure it out, you mean," he answered back as he unceremoniously dropped Angel's prone form on the floor.

"Be careful," Faith told him as she carried the sword that Angel had used.

Faith watched as Wesley checked to make sure the vampire was alright. She wasn't really worried about Angel at the moment. What she was worried about was the enormous strength she had seen Wesley display in the fight. Sure he'd gotten better in a fight over the years, but nothing like what he was now. It was almost spooky, like he had her powers now, instead of herself, only multiplied by twenty.

"We should go," Wesley panted out, still out of breath from the fight.

Faith kept the sword as they exited the building. They needed it more than Angel did at the time. Going around the next corner into an alley, Wesley brought her up short, stopping her forward momentum. Scanning the next street from the mouth of the alley, she didn't see any kind of danger. And Wesley wasn't even looking. He was bent over, like he was in pain.

"Hey, did one of those guys get you or something?" she asked.

"Just, um, give me a minute," he told her, still trying to catch his breath.

His hand went up to the side of his head.

"We need to get moving," she implored.

Before she could take his arm to pull him away from the building, Wesley cried out in pain and collapsed. Now what the hell did she do? She had no one to rely on but herself. Getting down on her knees, she tried to stop Wesley from hitting his head on the ground since he was thrashing around. She laid the sword down so she would have both hands free.

Slowly, he calmed down, but still doubled over so she couldn't see if he had actually injured himself. As he raised his head to be parallel with hers, she noticed that his eyes were black. Not what they were supposed to be, she concluded.

"Get away from me," he told her in a calm voice.

Faith shook her head no, trying to see if anything could explain why he was starting to act strange.

"Something's wrong," Faith whispered to him as she placed a hand on his forehead, thinking that maybe he had a fever from the wound on his stomach.

His hand shot out to wrap around her neck, drawing the breath out of her. He slowly stood, taking her with him and keeping the pressure up until she started to choke. She clawed at him, trying to get him to stop. Slowly, he picked her up and slammed her into the side of the building, holding her there as if she were a puppet.

"Stop," she managed to squeak out.

"I thought you liked it rough, Faith," he still said in that calm voice, no expression crossing his face.

His hand eased up on the pressure to her throat as he brutally brought his mouth over hers, biting her lip until she bled. Now that she could actually breath again, she took her fist and slammed it onto his temple, staggering him. Another brought him down to the ground.

"What the fuck?" she groaned out, sliding to the filthy ground.

At least she didn't need any slayer power to bring him down. A couple of well-placed punches had done the job for her. But her hands hurt like hell, whereas before it just stung a little.

Wesley looked to be out cold, so she made her way over to where he fell. She could tell that he was still breathing, which meant her punches had only hurt some, not killed him. Opening his eyes up slightly, he looked up at her and made her jump back some, just in case he wanted to throttle her again. The blue in his eyes had returned.

"Did we encounter those demons again?" he carefully asked her.

"Yeah, you could say that."

"You're afraid of me," he countered.

Faith couldn't stop the shaking. So she just shook her head in agreement as he gingerly sat up from the ground. His eyes widened when he saw the bruise forming on her throat. She self-consciously placed her hand over it.

"Did I . . . ?"

"Proved that I still have a mean left hook and right cross."

"You have to go to Angel," he told her as he scrambled away from her and stood up. "I'm dangerous."

"I don't think you'll kill me," Faith answered, knowing what she had seen from him a few minutes before.

He had the power to snap a demon's neck with one twist. Yet, he had only cut off her air for a few moments. Did that mean he was dangerous to her, or just angry with her?

"What did I do?"

"Took on a mess load of demons, then tried to cut off my air supply."

He looked down at her in horror. "I don't know what to say."

"Let's say we avoid any more fights so you won't go ballistic on me again."

Faith rose from the hard ground, moving her neck slightly to see how much it really hurt. The thought of him snapping her neck still roared through her mind. He could have done it. Instead, he hadn't.

"Your lip is bleeding." He hesitantly reached a hand up to her face to wipe away the blood. "How?"

"You decided to take a little bite out of me," she told him frankly, not glossing it over.

"Oh," he answered. "Don't trust me. Go to Angel."

"What? He wants to kill you. We'll find Spike, convince him. Then we both go to Angel. Got it?" Faith had a plan, at least a strategy. The two of them might not survive if they went it alone. But he did have superhuman strength. That was a plus. Damn, if she got her slayer powers back, they'd be virtually unstoppable.

"We find Spike?"

"We find Spike."

* * *

"Bloody hell," Spike yelled as the demon examined the blood on the microscope.

"It looks human, but not. I'm not an expert on this."

Illyria stood against the wall, arms crossed over her chest, face unreadable. She had shut down any emotion she had been feeling once they had left the hotel. Spike had a hell of a time just trying to figure out if she hurt or not. She looked so much like Fred, but the expression on her face was never something Fred displayed. The Texan always had smiles for everyone, even him.

"Does she have demon blood in her?" Spike asked his source, Karl.

"Every time I look at it, it changes. I just don't know," Karl told him hesitantly, since he knew that Spike was a vampire and didn't want to get on the wrong side.

He had helped Karl out of a tight spot when he was helping the helpless for Lindsey. Now the human owed him. But if Karl the technician that took blood every day didn't know what it was, then who else could he trust to look at it.

Spike threw his arms up in disgust. The whole freaking world had fallen apart around him. And every single person that he could rely on either didn't know he was alive or was dead. They needed Illyria for backup. And if she lost her powers, then it would be him and the big poof. Not nice odds.

Spike grabbed the slide off of the microscope and washed the evidence away down the drain. No use giving anyone any evidence to use against them. If Illyria were turning into a human, then they wouldn't let on until the last possible moment. He'd protect her if need be.

"Let's blow, Illyria." She stood at attention, looking at him strangely. "Let's go find Angel, love. This isn't working."

Spike took her hand to lead her out of the building, just so he could keep track of her. She had a way of disappearing when he least expected it.

"What will happen now?" she asked as they walked to the car.

"We hope that we don't have to prove whether you have your powers still, that's what."

Illyria stopped his progress by pulling on his hand. "I cannot lose my abilities. I would be a sitting goose."

"It's duck. Sitting duck. Yeah. You're right. You would be."

Her now changed brown eyes started to tear up. When had Illyria developed any other emotions other than anger and gloating? He had heard so much about the great god she was in her time, this display of vulnerability threw him for a loop.

"I'll protect you if you can't."

The tears changed to anger so quickly Spike wondered that if Illyria did stay human, she would be hell on wheels. Not that she wasn't now.

"I do not need a half-breed to protect me. I am Illyria . . . ."

"Save it. Heard the speech a thousand times."

Illyria threw her small fist flying towards his face, which he caught easily. Illyria's anger increased to the point where she threw the other hand too. Spike held the other one firmly too. Jerking her towards his body, he held tight against him until she calmed. The defiance was still present in her eyes, but her arms went slack. But for some reason he still didn't let go.

"You couldn't protect a flea right now, pet."

Spike shook his head as if to break the spell that Illyria put on him. He couldn't release her, nor turn his head away from her. Instead he slowly lowered his head until his lips lightly pressed against hers. Both still had their eyes open, looking to the other to give up first. So they stood in suspended animation, lips touching, but nothing else. Until Illyria shifted slightly, increasing the pressure. Spike took that as an invitation to taste her fully, which Illyria responded too, more fully than Spike could ever expect.

As he pulled back, some sense finally had come to his addled brain. The look of defiance had softened somewhat on Illyria's face.

"That was an interesting experiment."

Spike sighed to himself. She just thought it was an experiment. "Not an experiment," he growled as he pulled her head back and dove in for another kiss.

Illyria was the first to pull away. "I cannot," she stuttered, and then headed off to the car again.

Before she made it to the car, Spike stopped her with a hand to her wrist. Turning her around, he could see the tears fall now.

"Did you love him?" he asked her, frustration apparent in his voice.

"I, I do not know."

Illyria did have feelings for the watcher, that he could tell. But what bothered him was she couldn't figure them out. And here he went and made it that much harder for her to accomplish. It didn't matter. He was dead. Spike was there.

"I'm sorry about the you know. I shouldn't have taken advantage."

"You apologize Spike?"

"Yeah. First for everything."

* * *

"You don't tell us everything, I mean everything, so help me I'll torture you until, until . . . ." Cordelia managed to get out with her teeth mashing together.

"Cordelia, just calm down," Doyle implored her to do.

"I don't know much," Lindsey panted, having taken a punch to the gut from her already. "Will you quit with the violence. You're supposed to help people, not beat up on them."

"Talk, mister," she finished.

"All I know is some being, which I think is evil, is trying to open a gate between heaven and hell. I don't know what that gate is. Might be a portal, I don't know. They told me to shut the system down, not let any more guardian angels down to Earth until we are sure the crisis is over with."

"Guidance counselors. How come no one likes that name?" Doyle added, then backed down when he saw the look on Cordelia's face.

"Why send you? Aren't you evil?"

"Well, sometimes. After I died, I had a lot of time to think. Being evil sucks. So I got this deal. If I worked any job they wanted, then maybe some day I could redeem myself."

"What a crock of shit," Doyle told the man.

"Angel did a favor by killing me."

"Angel didn't kill you. I've been watching. And there was no killing of you by Angel," Cordelia wanted Lindsey to know.

"Wasn't Angel personally. Which by the way really ticked me off. He had Lorne do it."

Cordelia's eyes widened in surprise. "Bastard. Must have made you feel like this big," she emphasized with her pinky finger. "Poor Lorne. Should have had Wes do it."

"He had bigger fish to fry. Now where is he? I need to talk to him. He's the expert on portals."

"Uh, not here?" Cordelia put her hands up as if to say oh well.

"He's down there? Oh, shit. This is worse than they thought."

"Who are they? Like to know who shut it all down, you know," Doyle wanted to know.

"The Powers That Be."

"You've seen them? And here we are, slaving away, talking to people in their dreams," Cordelia sighed.

"But, hey, you do have to admit, we get to watch movies in surround sound."

Cordelia slapped Doyle to make him stay on topic. "Focus," she whined. "So some bad guy wants to open the gates of hell, like real hell, not just a hell dimension."

"Yep. Nasty place, I've heard. They didn't even send Lilah there."

Cordelia snorted. "So what will they do, take this place over?"

"Yeah, and keep moving until every dimension, including our little nice one down there is ripped to shreds."

"OK, not liking the visual," Cordelia told the ex-lawyer. "Wes is gone. He went down just before you put the locks on the doors. Something was wrong with Faith. He went to play hero."

"Shit," Lindsey added. "Well, at least the place is locked down tight."

"But it won't if the gate is opened?" Doyle questioned.

"Nope. It can't hold forever. We are the last line of defense. We should gather as many as we can. Plan a strategy if it happens."

"Oh, like we'd put you in charge."

Lindsey smiled at Cordelia. "Plan away."


	19. Anger Management Issues

Chapter Nineteen – Anger Management Issues

"You have a plan, man?" Gunn asked from his hospital bed.

"Sword, neck. Problem taken care of," Angel answered, rubbing the back of his sore head.

"OK, now explain to me why you think that Wesley is a zombie, because zombies usually don't kick the shit out of vampires, and then pull them out of harm's way."

Angel leaned back in the chair he was sitting in next to Gunn's bed. That had to be the only explanation for what Vail had done to Wes's body. What else could he be?

"He didn't smell right," was Angel's only explanation.

"He didn't smell right? What?"

"You heard me. It wasn't Wes. At least I don't think it was. It just wasn't right, OK?"

Angel couldn't explain it to a human. Maybe Spike would understand, a little at least. Humans gave off unique scents. And Angel was an expert at identifying those scents. He knew Wesley's scent probably better than anyone, having spent so much time with the man. That man, body, was not Wesley. Something was off about it.

"Could it have changed if someone brought him back to life? Didn't that girl Buffy come back to life?"

Angel knew that it was possible. But Buffy had died a mystical death. Wes's death was from natural causes. Reanimating a body that had died from natural causes would be next to impossible unless you made it a zombie.

"Yeah, she did. We have to find Faith. That thing has her believing the story."

"Which puts her in a heap load of danger. So why are you sittin' here?"

"I had to make sure you're OK. The guys will be here to protect you, just in case."

Angel had called Gunn's old buddies from his neighborhood. They were more than willing to guard him until it was unnecessary. Their workload had gone down considerably in the last month too. And they seemed to know that Angel was the cause of their decreased workload. Angel got up to leave, convinced that Gunn would be alright in the short term.

"What if it is him, Angel?"

Angel couldn't think like that. Wesley was dead. It was like he could feel it happening. Just like when Cordelia had finally died. He knew when Illyria dropped into the alley what the answer was even before it was asked. Not only had the battle with Hamilton taken a lot out of him, Wes's death had also. Hamilton's blood may have helped him win the battle, but the idea of his friends' sacrifices made him not stand in the morning sun and let himself go up in a puff of smoke and ash.

"I don't know. But wanting it to happen didn't make it happen."

* * *

"No one's here," Faith started as they entered the hotel.

"Which is a good thing considering Angel is out for my head."

It felt different being in the lobby of the Hyperion again. It had been a little over a year since the group had moved to Wolfram and Hart. A move that none of them should have ever made. They had been seduced by the dark side. And had paid dearly.

"Spike will understand that," Faith added.

"It doesn't mean that he'll believe us though."

Wesley sighed as he sat down on the round couch. His head still hurt from Faith's punches. They had nearly knocked him out. Even though she didn't have the strength, she still had the knowledge. But up against something significantly larger, she would be overwhelmed. Or up against him if she tried that trick again.

Faith winced as she sat beside him on the couch. Her neck had turned black and blue from the hold he had put on her earlier. If he looked close enough he could see the faint outline of his fingers.

"We need to discuss what exactly happened, Faith."

Faith took a deep breath like she knew that it was coming. "You didn't snap my neck."

"But I could have, very easily. Is that what I did to those demons?"

"You don't remember?"

No, he vaguely remembered starting to take them on. Then it all became fuzzy.

"I don't remember much."

"The first two demons went down quickly. You snapped the first one's neck then took the other one down with a well-placed kick to its knee. Then you and Angel took out the other two. You were fast, efficient, and a little scary if you ask me."

He felt a little scared himself. Blacking out and taking on massive demons was not too smart. At least he got the job done.

Looking down to his feet, he glanced Faith's way, noticing that she was holding her hands in front of her gingerly. The knuckles were swollen and battered. Reaching over, he gently touched the wounds, which made her pull them back sharply.

"We should get you some ice."

"You know, it used to be, I could hit things for hours and not feel it. Now, I can barely move my hands they hurt so fucking much. I don't like being helpless, Wes."

"I don't like seeing you helpless."

Leading her into the kitchen, he pulled out the ice tray and dumped a few pieces of ice in a rag. He placed it over one of her knuckles, making her wince.

"Thanks. Sorry I had to sock you."

"I'm just glad you had the strength. I hated seeing you lose the slayer strength in the first place."

"Yeah, well it pisses me off when someone bites my lip."

He wasn't even sure why he had done that. Of course, he didn't remember doing that.

Faith turned to lay the ice down on the counter, only before she could, it dropped to the floor.

"Are you OK?" he asked.

"How did you know?"

"Know what?"

"That I had lost my slayer strength? How?" she implored, still not looking at him.

"Well, that's a long story."

Crossing her arms over her chest, she turned around. The look of fury on her face said it all. He backed away a little to avoid her battered fists battering his head more.

"Seems that I have some time on my hands," she said tightly.

"I was dead."

"Ghost?"

"Sort of. I don't think that it would be a good idea to let you know," Wesley said quickly as he started to walk out of the room.

Faith quickly put her arm across the threshold to block his path. If her hands were still hurting her, she didn't let it show. "Try me."

"I can't."

She advanced on him slowly. He didn't know why he thought she could do any damage to him. She had taken him down not once, but twice in the last couple of hours. Because she had surprised him, but she had done it. And he hadn't fought back against her. He didn't consider her a threat. But maybe he should think that she was a threat by the look she was giving him right then.

His hip bumped up against the counter, stopping his backward motion. He really didn't want to lie to her. She would catch him in one easily.

"Don't lie to me, Wes."

And she could read minds too. Maybe it was because their minds were quite a bit alike.

"It's a bit delicate, you see."

"Quit sounding like you have a stick up your ass and tell me."

Wesley took a deep breath and dove in headfirst. "Well, I died. I told you about going to another dimension. At least that's what I think it was. I was given an assignment. And you . . . ."

"Holy fuck, why didn't you just say so. So you've been following me around, helpin' me out. Guardian angel? Am I right?"

Faith was sometimes too smart for her own good. The cat was out of the bag, and he hadn't even told her that part. "Yes. You are."

"Why me? Other than I tend to screw stuff up royally."

"You must be important enough to warrant one. And I just probably broke every rule in the book confirming your hypothesis. Cordy is going to kill me."

"Hey, already been dead. Cordy's there too?"

"Yes. I keep expecting her to swoop down and jerk me back."

"Is there spanking involved?"

"Faith," he sputtered.

"Gotcha. I knew there was some of that prissy watcher still in there somewhere."

Faith looked at him with mirth in her eyes. Years ago, that prissy watcher in him would have almost died on the spot by her suggestions. Now he just shrugged.

"With Cordelia, you never know."

"Oh, I so don't need that image in my head."

Both laughed at her comment. "I couldn't even do the guardian angel thing right, Faith. And now, who knows."

"Hey. It's not bash the dead watcher day here. We will figure this out. I got a lot riding on this too."

Faith looked up at him like he had all the answers, or knew where to find all the answers. He didn't understand any of it. All that he knew was that he was alive once again. But for how long? And by whose hands?

"They have to be interconnected somehow. Which means we need to research. Only my books aren't here."

"Angel has some. I could help."

He and Faith had never sat down and researched together. He didn't know what kind of skill set she possessed.

"Thank you for the offer."

"Anytime," she told him, still smiling like she knew of some inside joke that he didn't.

"Shouldn't we get started?" he asked carefully.

"Yep," she said as she motioned for him to lead the way.

Bending down, he picked up the ice she had dropped and handed it to her. The shit-eating grin was still in place. For the life of him, he still couldn't see why she was so amused. It was when he arrived in the lobby that it hit him. He stopped short and froze.

"Bloody hell," he mumbled.

"I just love those books. Keep you up at night if they're interesting enough."

Faith walked around him to go to Angel's inner office. Wesley hung his head slightly.

"Pun thoroughly intended, I suppose."

"Oh, yeah. You have some issues we need to discuss, Wesley," she told him, with the emphasis on the last part of his name.

"Fuck," he answered, realizing what issues she was referring to.

"Dying really does change a man, now doesn't it?"

"You wouldn't believe how much," he told her, turning his head to look at her, the amusement that he was now feeling still mirrored in her eyes.

"I thought that I was the only one to die and come back in dramatic fashion. Stole my thunder, mate," Spike said from behind him.

Wesley also heard Illyria's gasp of surprise too. Faith grabbed the sword they had taken from Angel and deftly threw it his way, just in case. Wesley turned with the sword raised, to show Spike that he meant business.

"Hello, Spike," he said as he held the sword ready.

"You're not a zombie. Angel has his head up his ass again. Figures."

Illyria didn't move from the spot at the door. Wesley didn't like it one bit that she had taken on Fred's persona. He had told her at one time not to take that shape again to only ask her for it when he was dying. Had she kept the form after he died?

"You figured that out quickly," Faith announced. But Wesley still didn't put down the sword.

"His heart is beating. Curious though. You smell different. Buffy smelled different when she came back too."

Now that was interesting, Wesley thought. Maybe he could pick Spike's brain about Buffy and her resurrection. And he would just ignore the fact that Illyria was even in the room.

"Well, Angel isn't so believing. He tried to slice off my watcher's head."

"Chop first, ask questions later. I assume Percy, you have an explanation all ready worked up?"

"I wish."

"Now that's a first. The brain doesn't know squat. Come on, Blue. He won't bite." Spike motioned for Illyria to follow him. She did not comply.

"He is dead. I watched him die. This is an imposter."

"Hey, vote's two to two now, Wes. We need a tie-breaker," Faith quipped.

"Illyria, I don't believe I give a rat's ass what you think," Wesley replied to her, glaring her way.

The crass comment made Illyria wince in pain. Wesley saw her withdraw like she had been hit with something solid. He then realized that he had made a mistake replying to her statement. From now on, he'd keep his comments to himself around her.

"Wes, there's more going on here than just you bein' human again," Spike announced, a little angry.

"I am sure that you can enlighten us Spike, but we don't have the time right at the moment. We have demons after us, and I would prefer to keep this head a top my shoulders for the long term."

"Illyria's human. At least that's what we think," Spike finished, knowing that if he didn't he wouldn't get a chance to later.

"Change back. Change back right this instant. Stop playing Spike, Illyria."

"She's not lyin', you ponce," Spike said, defending the demon.

"She's playing you Spike. Don't you see it?"

Illyria sank down to the steps, covering her face with her hands.

"All I see right now is some bloody wanker who doesn't know what the hell is going on."

"Wes, something is wrong with her. Maybe you should listen to Spike," Faith said to him.

"She killed Fred, Faith. Burned her up from the inside. Burned her soul away until there was nothing left," Wesley panted out.

Wesley's body was burning up from the inside too. He could feel the rage rise up inside of him, ready to escape at the first sign of violence. It was like no dark magick he had ever touched in his life. The thoughts of destroy raged through his mind. He could just walk over to Illyria and twist her neck until it broke. And no one could stop him.

"It wasn't her fault. You said so yourself," Spike reminded him.

Wesley could just take his fist and smash her face in. That would end all of his torment and suffering. She would be dead and he wouldn't have a reminder of what could have been.

"Spike, get her out of here now," Faith said, looking at his eyes now.

Faith was fading from view. All of his anger was focused on the small figure sitting on the stairs.

"Now," Faith yelled, putting herself in between the figure and himself.

Spike took a hold of Illyria, and led her up the stairs. Wesley's head still pounded, his breath was still short, but the pressure had eased somewhat so he could actually see a fuzzy Faith in front of him again.

"You have some serious anger management issues, Wes. Did you black out?"

Wesley could hear her talking, but her form in front of him was still a blur, like he was walking in a dream world.

"You stopped me," he spoke haltingly to her.

"Because she's not the enemy here. You just need to chill."

Wesley reached out to touch her neck, not grabbing it like he did before, but to feel her pulse underneath his fingers. "You're frightened again, of me?"

"You would be too if my eyes were black."

His knees felt weak and shaky. Closing his eyes, he started to sag down to the floor. Faith caught him before he hit the ground.

"OK, no slayer strength. Even as skinny as you are, you're still not a lightweight," she groaned as she took his arm and put it over her shoulder.

Making it back to the couch, she eased him down. Wesley put his head back, trying to bring some order to his body before he spoke again.

"So, do you remember that?"

"Remember what?"

Faith sighed. He must have done something wrong for her to sigh at him. "It looked like you wanted to rip Illyria apart limb by limb."

Fuzzy thoughts ran through his brain. Did he feel that much violence against Illyria? He could have taken her out when he reduced her powers. All he could remember telling her was to change back to being the blue color that she always was. And Faith telling him to stop.

"It's like walking through a dream, and when I wake up, I only remember bits and pieces."

"Well, you better wake up and smell the coffee, buster. Because we are gonna need some serious help to fix whatever is going on with you."


	20. Get Put Back Together

Chapter Twenty – Get Put Back Together

"OK, Lindsey, spill. What do you have?" Cordelia asked him.

She, Doyle and Lindsey were sitting in the cottage, trying to formulate a plan to keep their realm safe, along with humankind.

"The Powers That Be noticed a large sway in the balance of power."

"Yeah, the battle. Go on."

"A lot of the other dimensions, hell dimensions, started rumbling, making noises. We've already had two of them merge with catastrophic consequences. It's like taking out all of those demons messed something up."

"Hey, the PTBs are the ones that gave me that vision in the first place."

Doyle took her hand in his, trying to calm her. "I don't think they caused this, love."

"No. They didn't. It seems that a few of the strongest that Angel was supposed to take down escaped the PTBs wrath somehow. I think they're the ones behind this. They slipped out of Angel's dimension and stirred up trouble other places."

"You've lost me, Lindsey. I don't understand. Angel succeeded, didn't he?"

Lindsey sighed. "Sort of. He got rid of most of them, yes. But he failed to close the portal that helped those demons come to his dimension in the first place. So they've been jumping from place to place, leaving destruction in their wake."

"Dammit, there was a portal. Why is there always a portal?"

"How do you think that many bad guys got into the alley in the first place?" Lindsey told her.

It still didn't make much sense to Cordelia. She had given Angel that vision, so he could take care of the badness in the world once and for all.

"I'm going out on a limb here, but I think one of them changed how it was supposed to go down."

Cordelia frowned at the man. She knew what she saw in the vision. She knew what Angel had gleaned from the vision. Those visions were usually tamper-proof.

"Did you see in your vision how Wesley died?" Lindsey asked.

"No, not exactly. I just figured stuff out shortly before the battle. I somehow knew he was gonna die. Why?" Oh, she didn't know if she wanted to hear the next part at all.

"Because he was supposed to close the portal, I think. He was supposed to die in the alley that night closing the portal for good."

"Oh, God," Cordelia swallowed.

Now why did that seem like the biggest stretch in the world? How in the fuck did Lindsey think this? What did he know that she didn't?

"What did you tell Wesley right before you came back here, after your one day? Do you remember?"

"Um, I remember telling Wes that he had good mojo? I don't see what that has to do with anything."

Lindsey smiled her way. "Because he did have much better use of those magicks than he used that night. Why do you think Wolfram and Hart wanted him on their side? It just wasn't for his good looks, I can assure you."

Cordelia snorted. "Don't ask Lilah about that. So something changed about that night. What?"

"No one saw him die?"

"I don't know. I wasn't there. We couldn't be there. I was watching the alley scene with Doyle. I wasn't his guardian angel."

"And he never made it to the alley," Doyle added. "That blue chick just said that he was gone."

"So, she saw it all. Or most of it, anyway," Lindsey concluded.

Cordelia's eyes brightened up, thinking the whole night through. "Angel sent him to Vail's. You know, that mage, sorcerer guy."

"He was powerful," Lindsey agreed. "I didn't think he was powerful enough to defeat Wesley."

"Didn't have to. A great, big knife defeated Wesley," Cordelia added, knowing that part from Wesley himself.

"I just wish he was here. Then we could figure out this problem much quicker," Doyle said, getting nods from the other two.

Lindsey tapped his fingers on the table, thinking through the situation. "I just don't understand why he didn't come back when I shut everything down."

"You know Wes. Probably messed up being a guardian angel. Faith probably knows everything, we'll get punished, and have to do who knows what to fix it."

"He's Faith's guardian angel? Why'd he do that? Didn't Faith torture him?" Lindsey asked Cordelia.

"They bonded, or something," Cordelia said, throwing up her hands like she didn't understand either.

"Sort a like you and Angel, Cordy," Doyle put in, earning him a scowl from her.

"Not the point, Doyle," Cordelia pointed out to him by cuffing him lightly on the shoulder. "So how do we get him back up here?"

"Not sure we can. If he was one of us, he should have just reappeared. He didn't. Which means something didn't let him."

Cordelia's head was swimming. Who said that angels didn't get roaring headaches? She knew of only one solution. "You need to open the system back up."

"No, no, no. I can't Cordelia. The PTBs were very specific that I shut it all down. No one comes in, no one goes out. No viewing, no helping, no nothing."

"Then how do we find Wes, genius? Huh?"

"I don't know."

"No other way, is there ole' Lins," Doyle patted the guy on the back hard.

"If this goes all wrong, then you two will be to blame."

"I think we'll be toast, as in no more if we're wrong," Cordelia wanted the former lawyer to know. "OK, one more thing? Why you?"

"I said I made a deal. Let's leave it at that."

Lindsey got up to walk away from the two at the table.

"Uh, uh. Not doing anything until you tell us your deal."

"Well, you see. It all started off with this girl."

"What is it with you and some skanky girl, Lindsey?"

* * *

Spike came back to the lobby after he had calmed Illyria down and told her to rest. He had never seen the blue god rest before, but she had quickly fallen asleep after he tucked her in. She was on her way to being human, he could smell it. Just like the wanker watcher downstairs was not so human anymore. Kind of like the way Buffy was when she came back all wrong. But she had somehow regained her sense of balance, her sense of humanity. Sure, she still smelled the way she had when she came back, but she had finally settled into the new persona. At first, she had broken down from the fact that she had been at peace up there in the heavens somewhere, done with the fight on this plane of existence. Someone dragging her back, her friends dragging her back, had made her into something a little different. Maybe the same thing was happening to the jerk downstairs?

He could hear Faith and Percy in the inner office, talking about research or something. They obviously had some ideas what to look for. He should just tell the guy that he was lucky to be back and to thank whatever gods he prayed to that it happened. Spike could sympathize with him. He was brought back for some kind of purpose, and now here he was, fighting alongside Peaches and what was left of his crew. Destroying evil and all that nonsense. And it had felt good, taking out all those demons in that alley.

Spike stopped and turned when he saw the doors opening to the outside. Oh great, the bloody poofster was back. There's gonna be a fight. But maybe he could head the big cheese off at the pass and avoid some bloodshed. Spike felt another big battle coming, and they needed all the able-bodied bodies they could get. Even if Wes was kind of useless in a fight. Maybe he could throw one of those fireballs the demons' way and make them go poof.

"Anything?" Angel asked as he strode down the stairs.

Spike just snorted and crossed his arms over his chest. "Been out prancing around, have we?"

"Spike, I don't have time for this."

"As always. I solved your problem, mate."

"Chop its head off?"

"Hardly. I'm not the chop first kind of guy. I have me a brain in my head and I use it a lot more often than you do."

"Spike, finish."

Angel sat down hard on the round sofa, a dejected look on his face. His head whipped around in just a few moments.

"Where is he?"

Spike touched his nose. "Never could fool you, Angelus. And you need to take that glower down a notch. What makes you think he's a zombie? Doesn't look like any zombie I've ever met."

Angel got up and paced around, like he was hunting mode. "Because, he's not right."

"Bloody hell he's not right. Do you think Buffy was right when she came back?" Spike pounded back.

Angel turned his head sideways, deepening his scowl at Spike. This is not what Spike had intended. He just wanted to get through to the guy. Not get him angry enough to start a fight. Oh, well. Wishful thinking on his part.

"Where is he?" Angel growled.

"Right here," Wesley called from the office.

Spike sighed. So Percy couldn't keep quiet until he convinced Angel that it was true. Stupid jerk. Until Spike saw the sword that Wesley was holding. Well, not so stupid as to not come armed, that is. And Faith was standing right behind him. If he didn't know right, he would think that Faith had a thing for her watcher. Of course, Faith had a thing for any guy who could prove himself in a fight, him included. He was so glad he never took her up on her offer. One slayer was enough. Not that he wasn't tempted.

Wesley raised his sword in front of him in a posture of defense.

"You know, if it's all the same to you, I just healed from the last battle against lots of demons. And I don't relish becoming a big pile of dust. You should heed my advice, Angel and back off from him. He's not dangerous," Spike tried again.

"He died. Stay out of it, Spike."

Well, Spike tried. "Hey, you're dead, I'm dead. The only person that hasn't died is little Ms. Slayer girl there. Did you die?" he asked her.

"No. Coma, but no death," she answered, trying to draw the conversation over to a better topic other than fighting.

Faith stepped in front of Wesley, slowly approaching Angel.

"Faith, I can fight my own battles, thank you very much," Wesley told her.

"Will you stop? God, if I had my strength I'd kick your ass," she told Wes as she whirled to look back at him. Turning back around, she pointed at Angel. "And yours too Angel."

Wesley smirked a little at her comment. Spike just sat down on the steps to enjoy the fight. He just didn't feel like untangling the two at the moment. He didn't want them killing each other; he just didn't feel like getting knocked upside the head. He knew that there were issues between the two. Had felt it over the last year since he rematerialized. So maybe a little tussle would get it out in the open and fix the damn problem.

"Angel, I know you don't believe what's in front of your eyes," Faith started. "But it's true. He's alive. Heart beating, blood flowing, annoying as ever."

"Thanks, Faith, for your support," Wesley sarcastically threw her way.

"He died. I felt it. Just like when Cordy died. You are not going to convince me that thing is Wes, Faith."

Well, that settled it, Spike thought. He had a front row seat for the fight. He hoped that the watcher had learned a few moves over the years. Angel could fight dirty when he wanted to.

Faith came up to Angel, staring him up at him, trying to use just her eyes to get him to believe her. "You'll have to go through me to get to him then."

"No, Faith," Wesley yelled.

Oh, so the watcher still protected his charge. Interesting development, Spike mused. The guy must like pain.

"Get out of the way," Angel growled at her.

Faith drew back her hand and slapped him hard. Spike even winced when hearing the contact. The whole room went deadly silent. Spike could see Wes wanted to run to Faith, to take her out of harm's way. He couldn't see Angel's reaction, but he knew that Angel was probably a bit shocked at the gesture. Not that it would hurt him at all.

Angel physically picked the small woman up and moved her out of the way. Oh, once she got her slayer powers back, Angel was going down. Faith returned the gesture by kicking him in the ass. And the stupid wanker Wes moved forward to protect Faith. Spike just hoped that the fight wasn't over too soon. Wouldn't it be funny if Angel actually got his ass kicked, literally?

"Hey, she kicked your ass," Spike pointed out, hoping to distract Angel just a bit.

It didn't work. Angel dove for Wesley, taking him off balance.

"Angel, no. He'll hurt you."

Wes hurting Angel? Was she daft or something?

The sword went flying off into a corner, but not before Wes connected with Angel's jaw, sending him flying across the room, crashing at Spike's feet.

"Oh, damn. Told you he came back different. Believe me now?" Spike asked the downed vampire.

"Little help here?"

Spike held his hands up and shook his head no.

"Angel, I don't want to fight you. Back off," Wesley stated.

Angel tackled Wesley, bringing him down to the floor with a thud.

"Dammit, Spike. Do something," Faith yelled.

"Leave it, pet."

Faith shook her head no, trying to come between the two fighting on the floor. What Spike didn't expect to see was the watcher physically picked up Angel by the throat and threw him across the room. Humans weren't that strong. Only slayers and other assorted demons had that kind of strength. Then he saw the look in Wes's eyes. They were coal black. Angel scrambled up again, throwing a fist towards Wesley's head. He quickly blocked it, but not before Angel's other fist hit him in the stomach. Wes groaned in pain, but that didn't stop his leg from colliding with Angel's groin. Spike even winced in pain.

"That's kinda dirty there, mate." Not like he hadn't used that trick many times before.

"Crap," Faith screamed.

Wesley backhanded Angel, sending him to the ground. Angel's foot shot out and took Wes down with him. But Wes was faster to his feet. Much faster than Spike could have imagined. He was so glad he hadn't entered the fight. His head was hurting just watching it.

Blood spurted from Angel's mouth as Wes connected with a mean right cross. Angel countered by punching the guy in the chin, snapping Wes's head back. Wesley just smiled through the pain and blood. Before Spike could blink, Wes took Angel down again with a fairly decent roundhouse kick to the face.

"Don't you kick him, Wes. You'll knock him out again," Faith yelled to her watcher.

"You go, mate. This is fun watching Angel get his ass kicked without my head being in the way." Faith punched him in the arm. "Ow, what did I do?"

"Nothing, you fucking jerk."

"Just make sure there's no sharp, wooden objects around and let them work out their differences."

Spike watched Faith tear up. God, he had never seen her so emotional before. "We have to stop them before one of them ends up dead or dusted."

"You are such a girl, Faith."

"Last time I looked, Spike."

Spike rolled his eyes and got up from the stairs. "Should have popped some popcorn or something." He walked over to Wesley, who had just kicked Angel in the gut. Spike tapped him on the shoulder, trying to get his attention.

"Hey, lady wants you to stop," he started to tell Wes, which Wes promptly answered with a fist, snapping Spike's head back.

Spike landed flat on his ass. Faith finally risked it and went over to Wesley, pulling on his arm to get his attention. But the wanker didn't swing out at the slayer. He just stopped and turned.

"Stop," she implored him to do.

Spike watched him look at her, placing his hand around her neck. Spike's eyes went wide, thinking that the guy was going to snap her neck. But he just held her, touching his fingers to her frantically beating pulse in her throat. Then he closed his eyes and collapsed in a heap.

"OK, that went well," Spike said to no one in particular.

Angel groaned from that place on the ground he had ended up on. He didn't look too worse for the wear. If Faith hadn't intervened, there would have been a lot more of Angel's blood on the floor, Spike concluded. Spike felt around his face, feeling a little blood too.

Instead of Faith cooing over Saint Angel, she crouched down to Wesley, actually putting the guy's head on her lap.

"I am not getting in the middle of them anymore, Faith," Spike wanted the slayer to know.

"Check on fuckhead over there. God, when will anyone ever listen to me?"

Spike looked down at Angel, whose eyes were closed. "He'll live."

"No I won't Spike. If I had a stake right now, you'd be that big pile of dust," Angel finished, still not opening his eyes.

"If you would have listened."

"Go away, Spike," Angel told the younger vampire.

"Sorry. Can't mate. The lady over there isn't very happy with you at the moment. She just might stake you herself."

Angel looked over at the slayer and watcher, puzzled beyond belief. Wesley awoke with a jerk, looking up at Faith, eyes now blue.

"I didn't hit you, did I?" he asked her with a soft voice.

"Nah. Hopefully you knocked some sense into that damn vampire over there on the floor."

Faith scowled at Angel, challenging him to say a word. Angel of course, didn't listen.

"How Wes? Just tell me how?"

"If I knew that, do you think I would be lying here on the ground with a headache the size of England?"

"Still a smartass, aren't you Wes," Faith added. "OK, up you go."

Faith helped Wes up off the floor while Angel picked himself up.

"Angel, I don't want to fight you anymore. Vail's behind all of this. We just need to find a solution."

"Vail?" Angel's ears perked up.

Wesley shook his head yes.

"Hey, just tell me if round two is ready to start and I'll put the popcorn in the microwave."

"Spike," all three admonished him.

"Now do you believe me, Peaches?"

"Spike, I don't know what to believe anymore. Was Buffy like this when she came back too?"

"Nah. She just wanted to shag all the time," Spike answered, knowing he would elicit some kind of negative response.

And the comment did, in the form of a fist in his face.


	21. Two Steps Forward, One Giant Step Back

Chapter Twenty-one – Two Steps Forward, One Giant Step Back

All three men nursed their wounds, muttering to themselves as they wiped blood away. Faith wished she could just stake the two and leave it at that. Angel had provoked the fight between he and Wes, and then Spike sat on his ass while it happened. Luckily she had gotten through at the last minute to Wes. There had been way too much blood spilled even for her taste.

"Here, let me see," Faith inquired as she looked at a gash on Wes's forehead.

Angel had gotten in one good shot while they were on the ground together. She gently dabbed at it while still glowering at Angel. He was sitting on a chair, trying to assess his injuries. Wes really did get in some good shots. Damn vampire deserved all that he got.

"I'm fine, Faith," Wesley told her.

"Just a little blood," Faith mocked Wesley. "Then it's a fight and knives are used and then someone dies."

Faith threw the cloth she was using to treat Wes in his face and fled into the inner office, slamming the door in her wake. She really did not want to speak with any of those guys right at the moment. Only the stupid watcher decided to follow her.

"I'm sorry," Wesley started off, closing the door behind him.

"I am sick and tired of hearing you say you're sorry. Just shove it."

Her anger was now to the boiling point. If the man was half as smart as he said he was, he should be running away from her as fast as he could. But he stood his ground, furrowing his eyebrows at her actions.

"You're angry."

"Oh, you think? Here we are, trying to figure this out. You and Angel decide to rearrange each other's faces. Why is that? You two used to be friends. What happened?"

"It's complicated, Faith. Things have changed."

Faith threw a book at the wall, making the windows rattle. "Damn right things have changed. Who's Connor? Huh? I don't seem to remember any Connor. Or half the events that you say happened in those diaries of yours that you kept well hidden. Is that what's between you and Angel? Because if that's it, I'm gonna sock both of you for being such fuckheads."

Wesley snickered at her last comment. "I'm sorry. It's just, colorful use of words. Being called that is quite humorous."

"Oh, geez. Why do you do that? Lighten the situation when it's too fucking serious?"

Wesley sighed as he came toward her. "Because I don't know the first thing to say to you. Cover up I guess. Connor is . . . ."

"Don't, Wesley," Angel said from the doorway.

"I am not going to perpetuate the lie any longer, Angel. You can trust Faith with it."

Wesley turned, crossing his arms over his chest. Faith could see the shield that Wes just put up against the vampire. Man, those must be really serious issues they have.

"I am already worried enough about him. Afraid that Wolfram and Hart will go after him to punish me."

"Have you contacted him?" Wesley asked.

"I've checked on him once. He's fine."

Faith was missing the whole point of this conversation. She asked a simple question. They wouldn't even give her a simple answer.

"No one has answered my question," Faith told the two.

"Connor is Angel's son," Wesley answered truthfully, finally.

"Thank you, Wes. What?"

That was not possible. No way, no how. She knew the rules, Wes knew the rules, Angel definitely knew the rules.

"Connor is my son. Darla's his mother."

"Darla? Wasn't she your sire? Wait, that's even more against the rules. Damn, when did they change that rule? And why is it making you two into enemies?"

Both Wesley and Angel shut down. Their expressions turned grim. So it was over this boy.

"There was a prophecy," Wesley started to explain.

"Which you translated incorrectly," Angel finished.

"I did not translate it incorrectly. I was led to translate it the way it was. It was false because . . . ."

Wesley's eyes lit up with recognition. Faith thought he was going to exclaim out loud that he had found something important in the room.

"You killed him," Wesley answered very plainly.

"What?" Angel responded, not all that happy.

"They may have manipulated me into believing that you would kill Connor as a baby. But you didn't. They just altered the timeline. You really did kill him, didn't you?"

Angel sank down on the couch, grim line on his face. "Yes, I killed him. To give him a better life."

"And to ruin ours."

Faith's head was spinning. She still didn't understand a bit of what they were saying, except for the part that Angel had a son. Obviously one that was not a child.

"I made a deal with Wolfram and Hart, Faith. If they would give Connor a normal life, I would take over the LA branch of the firm. And they would erase any trace of Connor from my friends' minds. Every memory that they had that involved him."

"So you erased my mind too?" Faith wanted to know.

"Yes, for it all to work. But Wes here decided to go on a fishing expedition and broke the orb that housed his memories of Connor. Vail was the one who performed the spell."

Faith was angry with the vampire. Someone messed around with her memories. She hated when people decided things for her, took control of the situation away from her.

"So Vail not only took away your friends' memories, he took away your friend too," Faith said, shaking with anger. "You sent Wes in to die, Angel. He couldn't take on that thing."

"What? You think that I wanted him to die? To get revenge for taking my son?"

So that's what it was. Somehow, Vail had erased the fact that Wes at one time had taken Connor away from him.

"Would someone just tell me the real story here, instead of making me guess?"

Wesley spoke up. "I took Connor when I thought that Angel was going to kill him. I stole him, but it ended up that Holtz had someone take him from me." Wesley absently rubbed his scar on his neck.

"You kidnapped Angel's son? Over a prophecy? You had proof, obviously. And this guy, Holtz took him away. How?"

"Someone working for him slashed my throat, leaving me for dead. By the time I had awoken in the hospital, Holtz had taken Connor to a hell dimension."

"What did you do to this guy Holtz to make him come after you, Angel?"

"I killed his whole family, turned his youngest daughter. Two hundred years before."

"And I thought that I was fucked up. You two, this is just, so stupid. Angel, I know that you lost your son. Wes should have done something different. So you were both wrong."

"He tried to smother me with a pillow."

"He slept with Lilah."

"I pulled you out from the bottom of the ocean."

"You attacked Lorne when he read you."

"I let you feed from me."

"You gave Lilah access to the team."

"You erased our memories."

"You killed Knox."

"Not like he didn't deserve it. You killed Drogyn."

"He didn't deserve it. It was for the greater good. He knew that."

"You knew Fred was going to die," Wesley whispered finally, tired of their little game.

Faith just watched them volley back and forth with insults and jabs. The last one though was the biggest shock. Angel knew that Fred would die and didn't do anything?

"Angel, is this true?"

"I didn't know, exactly. The vision Cordy gave me, it was vague. I read it wrong, OK? Damn Powers That Be can be very cryptic at times."

"What did this vision tell you, Angel?" Faith asked very carefully, expecting a particular answer.

"How to take down The Circle of the Black Thorn. They're the cause of most of the badness here, on this world. Take them down, and evil takes a holiday."

"It showed you how?" Faith asked again.

"Yeah. Exactly. Or I thought exactly."

Faith raced out of the office, pulling the door open so hard she almost shattered the glass in it.

"Faith, where are you going?" Spike asked as she ran by.

Wesley followed in her wake, pushing past Spike too. Angel slowly came out of the office, a look of pain on his face.

"Why didn't I just let that dragon fry me?" he said as he made his way up the stairs to his room.

Faith didn't even make it to the outside gate of the hotel before she stopped.

"Don't follow me," she commanded of Wesley, not even turning to see if it was he.

"I can't do that. There are demons that have nothing better to do other than kill us where we stand."

Faith leaned against the gate, feeling the cool steel against her fingers. Her whole world had been turned upside down so quickly, she couldn't quite sort it all out. She just knew that the person she thought she could trust the most let too many people die for a cause. And the person behind her could take a baby from its father just because he thought it could have been in danger. Did all of their efforts to do the right thing cause more strife than it was worth?

"What? Are you gonna kidnap me so I won't be killed by Angel too?"

Wesley visibly winced at her thought. "I didn't want you to learn all of that in one night, Faith."

"When will you people actually talk to each other?"

"Then let us go back inside where it is safer and discuss this."

Wesley took her arm, trying to pull her back inside before something jumped out at them.

"He knew that you were gonna die, and didn't lift a finger to save you," Faith blurted out.

"It was my choice."

"To kill yourself? What? Was it, oh I can either die by Vail's hands or Angel's? So you picked the more evil one."

The look of concern on Wesley's face didn't deter her from continuing her rant. She wanted him to know how much she was hurt by his actions.

"You died, you son of a bitch. You let them win. Buffy once told me that you stay alive, no matter what. You died," she screamed at him.

"Faith, I died a long time ago. It just took longer for me to realize it."

"You bastard. You were always supposed to be here. You died and I didn't get to say how sorry I was," Faith yelled at him.

Her fists hit him all over, but there was no force behind them. It was like she was fighting herself, fighting what she was and what she had become. And he was always supposed to be there to pick up the pieces.

He took a hold of her fists. "Do you think it's always about you, Faith?" Wesley told her with an angry voice. "What you want, what you need? Have you ever thought about someone other than yourself?"

"I thought about you, you bastard. It was always about you. Don't you understand that? Why I went to prison, why I had to atone for what I did. Yeah, Angel and Buffy had some to do with it, but it was you. I wanted you to be proud of me. I didn't want to fail you again, like I did in Sunnydale. You weren't supposed to die," Faith cried out to him.

Faith broke down again, like she did in that alley, like she did in her dream. But now he could comfort her, be there for her, whereas before he could only pat her back.

She collapsed against him, saying she was sorry over and over again, just like in her dream. Only this wasn't her dream. She was real, telling him, meaning it for real. It wasn't something she was just doing to get it out of the way. Her heart ached so much over the past couple of years, it felt good to finally say it to him.

"I didn't want you to die," Faith said, voice muffled against his chest.

"I know."

"I should have come back after the First was defeated, like I said I would."

"You couldn't."

"I should have. Maybe things would have turned out different."

"Maybe. Maybe not."

Faith pulled away from Wesley slightly, face feeling swollen from the tirade she just went through. "I need to go kill a vampire now."

"Be my guest."

"You'd let me, wouldn't you?"

"Some days, yes I would," Wesley chuckled.

Faith stopped to really look at him in the dim light. So much about him had changed over the past couple of years. He wasn't that fussy, prissy watcher that she had hated in Sunnydale; he was a complex, frustrating, way too intelligent for his own good, man. Surprising him, she reached up and pulled his head down to her level, taking his mouth with her own, to show him how much she was sorry. At first, he didn't respond to her, just let her do all the work. He gave in when she moaned into his mouth, letting all of his barriers down finally.

Breaking away from his mouth, Faith kissed his neck, his scar. Until he put his hand in her hair and pulled her head back, diving in to kiss her passionately again. Traveling over to her ear, he whispered something to her, but she couldn't quite make it out.

"What?" she moaned.

"Run," he whispered.

Why should she run? Was there some danger that was present that she didn't see? Of course, it was kind of hard to see with her head back, neck exposed.

"Go," he growled at her, trying to push her away.

She held on to him, thinking that she could help him. By the look in his black eyes, he wasn't exactly seeing her anymore.

"Didn't I tell you to run?" he panted out.

"Let me get Angel. We'll figure this out."

"I can't fight him much longer. Get. Away. From. Me."

Now Faith was frightened of Wesley. He growled at her like a wild animal. Just as she started to do what he had wanted her to do in the first place, his arm came out, stopping her forward progress.

"Not so fast, little girl."

Before she could claw her way from him, he yanked her hard against him, taking the breath out of her. Then her world went black as he cut off her air supply quickly.

"You'll do nicely."


	22. I'm Your Hell, I'm Your Dream

Chapter Twenty-two – I'm Your Hell, I'm Your Dream

(courtesy of Meredith Brooks)

Spike didn't find Illyria where he expected to find her. She was gone from her bed when he went back to her room. She had picked out a room of her own soon after they had arrived back at the hotel. He could usually find her in there, contemplating the scribbles on the wall.

The only other place she tended to like was up on the roof. She told him at one time she felt less closed in when she was inside a building. Opening the door to the roof, he found her sitting against a low wall, looking up at the stars.

"They have not changed," Illyria started, obviously hearing him come near.

"What? Up there?" Spike pointed to the sky.

"My power, the power that I possessed, it made me invincible. Like those lights in the sky. Always there. I lived for so many lifetimes. Now, to be reduced to this."

Spike sat down beside her, looking up at the twinkling sky with her. "Did you ever think that maybe you evolved? That this is what you were supposed to become? I'd give anything to be in your shoes."

Illyria looked at him, mouth open wide. Those human expressions just kept on coming, he thought. She was learning what it was like to live in a world populated by humans.

"I am weak, Spike. My powers diminished. This is not the way it is supposed to be."

"Yeah, you may be right on that one. But if you do become truly human, you'll have things that I can only dream about. Your heart will beat, you'll be able to live a full life."

"And I will die."

"Yes, you will die."

Illyria placed her hand on his cheek, looking at him like he had all the answers in the world, again. "I will grow old. I will wrinkle and become diseased."

"That's what being a human is all about."

"I do not understand why you would want this existence," Illyria softly told him.

"I guess I didn't appreciate being human until after I died is all."

Illyria gently placed her lips on his. "I want to appreciate being human," she whispered against his mouth.

Spike's undead heart ached for her. He knew she was just scared of what might come to pass. He knew she still had so much to learn. He was just afraid that she would rely on him for that knowledge. The task might be too great. But he couldn't deny the allure of her. His crush on Fred had not gone away. It had been transferred to the being in front of him.

"So would I," he said right before he applied more pressure, sinking into the kiss the correct way this time.

Illyria moaned into his mouth, eliciting one from him. He knew he should stop this nonsense. His convenience of being in the right place at the right time did bother him. If this had come about when Wesley was still alive the first time, then he'd be the one enjoying her exploration. But the guy was too worried about his slayer to worry about the ex-god, certainly becoming human in front of him.

Pulling away slightly, he opened his eyes to see how much the kiss affected Illyria. A small smile quirked up on her face, making it shine. The smile was not like Fred's had been. Illyria had made it her own.

"You stopped, Spike," Illyria complained.

"I don't want to take advantage, pet." No, he did. But he would regret it all the same.

"I need to learn how to be this new being. You will show me how."

That was his demanding girl. Now she'd become a girl in actuality. He just needed to figure out how she could not use him, and then throw him away. Females of the species tended to do that to him. So he wouldn't let his metaphorical heart get in the way. It caused too many complications. He wouldn't feel anything other than curiosity towards her. For the time being, he hoped that would be the outcome.

Her brown eyes flashed at him, somehow knowing how to bewitch him into helping.

"I will show you on one condition."

"You should not make conditions, Spike. I am Illyria."

"Who no longer is in control. You're just a girl."

"We will see about that, half-breed," she told him as she reached for his head again.

Pulling him down again to meet his mouth, he really did wonder who was in control of whom at the moment. Then that moment passed, and he enjoyed what she was giving him.

* * *

Faith awoke with a start, limbs shaking. Her mind cleared immediately, knowing that she was in danger. Opening her eyes to dim light, she found herself in that same room where it had all started. Where her nightmare had all started. Maybe she should pinch herself to see if she had been sleeping this whole time.

The dim bulb up above did little to cast much light on any of the dark corners of the dismal room. The table and cover still inhabited the room where she had first discovered Wes's body. Now the body was not there. That particular body had turned on her, finally. She should have seen it coming. The coal black eyes should have spoken volumes to her. But he never had harmed her, until now. Now she was in imminent danger.

Slowly rising from the cold floor, she steadied herself on those shaky legs and looked around. The crashed in door had been repaired at some point since Spike had broken it in, getting her out. It looked more impenetrable now than it did then.

Except now, it scraped open, to reveal something she had hoped she was just imagining. Whoever stood at the door was not Wesley. He did not hold himself as Wes did, eyes now black, too much like hers had been so long ago when she had been at her lowest point. This thing was evil at its finest.

"Ah, I see that you are awake. Such a fine specimen. It will be a shame that I cannot keep you."

She gave the thing her best sneer. "Good. Then I'll just be leaving."

Faith took a few steps forward. He stepped into the room and closed the door. The lock from the outside slid shut.

"Alas, I cannot let you leave, my dear. You see, that damned boy ruined my plans. And I had to change them. Pity that you became involved. I hear that you could be almost as ruthless as I could."

It was Wesley's voice, but not his words. Wes could never be this evil. He might be pissed at her, ticked off beyond belief at her, even wanting to kill her in those early days, but never evil. Where had he disappeared to, letting whoever take him over? She knew that he was there, somewhere, because she had spoken to him just hours before.

"What did you do with Wes?"

The creature snorted a little. "Didn't think you cared that much. As I hear it, you tried to kill him once upon a time. Torture it was. How lovely it would have been to hear him scream. He just up and died on me. Much too quickly. And then that bitch had to avenge his death."

He must be talking about Illyria, Faith thought. So she had offed Vail. It must be Vail. Since she had never met the guy, she couldn't be certain. It was the only conclusion she could come up with at the moment.

"What do you want with me, Vail?"

"Oh, the cat is out of the bag now, isn't it. You are a smart one. Too bad most people couldn't see that. He saw so though. As I said, too bad I didn't find you sooner. We would have made a formidable team."

Vail as Wesley inched towards her, like he wanted to menace her, scare her down to her toes. She had stopped the shaking as soon as he entered the room. No need to tell him she was weak. Unless he caused this to happen to her. Then he'd know it all. And would know how to fix it.

"What the fuck do you want with me?" she growled, fists at her sides.

"Revenge. Pure, simple revenge. Oh, and lots and lots of power. Once I'm done with all of this, each realm will bow down before me in supplication. And it will be oh so much fun."

Vail as Wesley had made it over to her. Faith didn't back up, didn't flinch as he came close enough to her to touch. She didn't want to give the son of a bitch anything to use against her.

"Maybe I'll keep you around a while longer. The boy seems very protective of you, as does the vampire. I wonder what you did to provoke such a response."

Vail as Wesley reached out and touched a curl in her hair, pulling on it slightly. "Don't touch me," she managed to get out.

He yanked on her hair, propelling her forward until they were now touching front to front. It wasn't a loving touch either. He pulled on her hair to the point of pain. Vail just chuckled at her response of fear. In some of her dreams of the past, she sometimes imagined Wesley coming after her, to get revenge on how she had treated him. He would look at her in almost exactly this way. Then he'd either choke the life out of her or slit her throat at the end.

"Ah dear girl, there's not much I cannot do to you, now is there. Your powers are gone. I know what he knows. Interesting thoughts that run through his brain. Kind of scary, if you ask me. Too bad I couldn't turn him to work for me. Now I have him and you."

"You killed him, you bastard. You think Illyria made you pay. Just wait until you see what I can do."

Vail smiled down at her. "Until whoever took your powers away from you restores them, then you'll do nothing of the sort."

Oops, score one for the good guys. Vail had just told her he wasn't responsible for taking her slayer powers. Which meant that there was some other force at work out there. Probably not so good in her book. At least she knew where Vail was. She just wished she knew where in the hell Wes was.

"Just tell me what you did with Wes?"

"He's here. Trapped by me. I have work to do though. You may have him back for a little while."

Vail wrenched her head back again, making her see stars of pain in her eyes. She was sure she'd lost some strands of hair that time. What happened next startled her.

"No," came out of the body, eyes flashing blue briefly.

Then the eyes shifted back to the black. He bruisingly took her mouth with his, not letting go of her head. She tried to resist Vail, almost getting her leg up and in between to cause him a considerable amount of pain. Before she could, he collapsed at her feet in a dead faint, taking her down with him.

Quickly crawling out from underneath him, she scooted away. She almost hyperventilated before bringing her breathing under control. Did Vail actually leave?

"Bloody hell," she heard him mumble from his place on the ground.

He started to cough violently, in addition to shaking all over. Faith wanted to go over to him, to see if maybe Vail had left, leaving Wes. But she was scared that it was just a rouse by Vail. So she sat still, arms tight around her bent legs, until she couldn't stand it anymore. The shaking hadn't stopped.

Slowly, Faith crawled over. "Wesley? Is that you?"

"What happened?" he whispered.

Faith gingerly fingered her throat, sure this time that he had left a doozy of a set of bruises.

"Is it you, cuz if it's not, you might find yourself . . . ."

Faith wasn't able to finish the sentence because Wesley started screaming, like he was in a considerable amount of pain. Then he spoke out loud, like he wasn't speaking with her.

"Not now. Don't do it now," he yelled.

"What? Do what?" she wanted to know.

"Dammit, woman. Don't you ever listen?" he cried.

But Wesley wasn't speaking to her. He was speaking to the glowy individual who had just popped into the room.

"Ah, me listen to you. Where the hell have you been?" Cordelia screeched.

Now Faith thought she was seeing things. Her mind had finally cracked from everything that had happened in the past month. It was worth a shot though to talk to the entity that floated before Wesley. What did she have to lose?

"Ah, Cordy. Want to tell me why you're here?" she finally asked.

"Oh, fuck. She can see me. Why can she see me? What did you do, Wes?"

Wesley frowned, then looked over at Faith. Nothing would come out of his mouth, she noticed. He kind of looked like a beached fish, mouth opening and closing, but no sound coming out.

"I haven't the slightest idea."

Then Cordelia gasped in surprise. "When did you become corporeal? I swear, if you did some kind of spell, they'll put you in hell and throw away the key."

"It's not my fault," he told her, still shaking for some reason.

Faith knew he wasn't shaking because Cordelia had appeared before him. That didn't seem to scare him in the least. Something else was going on.

"Cordy, sorry to interrupt your temper tantrum. But something is wrong with Wes."

Wesley lay his head back down on the cold floor now.

"Yeah, and it's probably all your fault, Faith. He was good, kind, and sweet before you got a hold of him."

Faith sent her best sneer her way. So Cordy couldn't let bygones be bygones, that bitch. "This is not helping, Cordy."

"I know. But it felt good. And there's not much I can do for him. He's corporeal. But I can try and get you out of here."

"Well, what are you waiting for?"

"I have to get Angel. I can't touch anything," she bit back at Faith, like Faith was supposed to know that.

"Do it," Faith yelled at her.

"You don't have to yell. It might take some time. Just sit tight."

"Tell Angel it's a trap. Vail's out for his blood. And he said something about wanting to be the ruler of a bunch of realms. That help?" Faith asked.

"That bastard. It makes so much more sense than you know. Thanks," Cordelia told her.

"You really mean that, don't you?"

"Yeah, I do. Take good care of him. He'll be needed." Faith nodded to Cordelia, like she understood what needed to be done. "And thanks for being there for him. I failed him at that at one point."

Faith had no idea what Cordelia was talking about. She was friends with Wesley, while Faith wasn't. "Failed at what?"

"I wasn't there when he needed me the most. And I'm not letting that happen again."

With that, Cordelia winked out of existence. Finishing her crawl over to Wesley, she noticed that his eyes were closed. She just hoped that Vail hadn't come back yet. She needed to talk with Wes, figure out a strategy to get out of that place.

"Wes?" she whispered to him.

As she felt his face, she realized that he was freezing cold. Rubbing his face some, she warmed him up slightly.

"So cold," he murmured.

Lying down on the ground with him, she wrapped her arms tightly around him, hoping that her body would warm him up so he would stop shaking. The shaking lessened slightly, enabling him to quieten down some. She just hoped that Cordelia would see Angel and tell him where they were. And she hoped that Vail didn't come back and inhabit Wes's body any time soon. She didn't want to have to kill Vail, as he inhabited Wesley's body.


	23. Find A Way To Carry On

Chapter Twenty-three – Find a Way to Carry On

Angel stared out into the darkness, wondering what in hell he would do next. Something big was brewing, again. It had only been a month since he brought the Circle of the Black Thorn down. The Senior Partners had not retaliated just yet. He was waiting for them to show up with a thousand Hamiltons, him ready to pummel some more bad guys. Every sound, every action made him jumpy.

What he didn't understand was why Wesley was back. Should he have believed Illyria when she said that he had died? He so obviously had not died. But Angel's senses never lied to him. Spike was right for once; the man had come back different. And with him coming back, all of those bad memories had resurfaced. He and Wes would never see eye to eye again. Angel realized now that too much had passed between the two to ever be close like they were in the beginning.

He had set out to give Connor a new life. It had been the downfall of the century. He should have figured out how to handle Connor, instead of changing the situation entirely. So many mistakes had been made in Connor's so short life. Getting through to the sullen teenager would have been more difficult. Changing Connor's whole destiny had been at the snap of his own fingers.

He had made such a mess of things. In the past, Cordelia would have been there to either pick up the pieces or not allow him to race down that path in the first place. No one ever realized what she did for the team as a whole. She focused everyone on the task at hand. Being Vision Girl had a lot to do with it. She never let anyone get away with anything, until she had let him get away with ignoring the signs of danger surrounding Connor, letting Wes take his son away, if only to protect him. If he had been successful, Connor would probably be a happy toddler.

He had been as much to blame as everyone else. Wes had been sullen, withdrawn. No one would talk to him, including Angel. Fred and Gunn were in their own little world, as was Angel with Connor, Cordy with Groo. Wesley was on the outside looking in, as he seemed to be much of his life. Not only had Wes been quiet, he'd also had been haggard, letting life pull him down. And Angel had ignored it all for his son. Wes's appearance in and of itself should have warned both Cordelia and he that something was up. But neither one of them could be bothered. Wesley's almost insane laughter right before Angel's room had burned should have been the biggest clue. The warning signs that the prophecy was coming true had come to pass. The warning signs that had been placed there specifically for Wes to believe what he had translated. Only Angel hadn't known any of it at the time.

So they had all made mistakes. Each and every one of them. Even Fred. As Angel rested his head against the cool glass of the window, he realized, finally realized that it was all gone. He had wanted his old life back, the one before prophecies and law firms had entered the picture. Now all he had were memories.

"Hey, you," a soft voice said behind him.

He wasn't sleeping this time. That voice only spoke to him in his dreams. Were hallucinations now a part of the package? Hell, Wes had come back to life. Could Cordelia too, a second time?

"You know, this is just getting old," Angel angrily answered back, sighing dramatically.

"I know this is unbelievable."

"Yeah. Unbelievable. Just about as unfuckingbelievable as one of my best friends coming back to life, or another vampire with a soul. Oh wait, I forgot about an old one walking the world again after thousands of years of being dormant."

"I know you're angry," Cordelia started.

"No, not angry. Just ready to give it all up."

"Don't you dare," Cordelia growled at him, turning him around.

She touched him. He was awake and she touched him. Maybe he was finally dead, not just undead and this was hell. Maybe Wes had been successful in the fight.

"What do you want, Cordelia?"

Cordy flinched a little when she saw that look in his eyes. "I need your help."

"I'm sorry. I don't help the helpless anymore. I closed up shop after I killed all of my employees."

"Angel, this is not about you. I really need your help. And I'm breaking every rule in the book right now. Could you please listen?"

Angel pulled her hand away. "Listening? Something I'm not good at, remember?"

"We have to help them. We have to fix it."

None of what this Cordelia was saying made sense to him. "I'm done fixing everyone's lives. I've screwed up so many others."

Cordelia sighed her displeasure, closing her eyes for a moment. When they had first met, she would have gone on some kind of tirade, even actually hitting him on the arm. Now she just waited him out. Had Cordy actually developed patience over the past few years?

"Just listen. Don't talk. Listen. I need for you to go to Vail's. Take Spike and Illyria with you. You don't have much time. Faith and Wes are in danger."

He had just seen the two storming out of the hotel not a few hours before. Letting them both get that anger at him out and over with had been the best thing, or so he thought.

"What happened?"

"Vail. He took Faith. You need to get over there now."

"Cordy, Illyria killed Vail. It can't be him."

She hit him on the shoulder. Nothing ever changed. "It's him, Angel. She did kill his corporeal body. But do you think for one second that he really died that day."

This was not what he wanted to be hearing. The Circle of the Black Thorn was supposed to be annihilated. They weren't supposed to come back to haunt him.

"I can't explain it all right now. You just need to go and save them."

Everyone wanted him to save the day, save the world. Could he put more people in more danger?

"I'll go. Leave Spike and Illyria here."

"No, you can't Angel. You're gonna need their help. Illyria's especially. Please?"

Cordelia said please to him. She must be deadly serious. "Where are they, exactly?"

"In Vail's basement. And also, Angel, Wes isn't right. Vail's done something to him. Just be careful, but don't hurt him."

Not like Angel didn't try before. Wesley had beaten him for once, just like Spike had before.

"His eyes were black, Cordy. He didn't come back right."

"He's not supposed to be back, Angel. But he is. And he'll help. Just give him that chance."

So his now dead seer was telling him where to find the helpless and his researcher who was supposed to be dead was in danger.

"You coming?" he asked as he picked up his duster.

"I can't. I'm needed up there. Another battle coming."

Angel shook his head in acknowledgment. Yes, another battle was coming. They just kept coming. When would they ever end?

* * *

"OK, here's what we do," Lindsey started.

"Listen, let's just wait for Cordy to come back before we go all a plannin' things," Doyle wanted him to know.

Doyle had gathered all of the members as he could together just in case they had to actually fight off whatever was coming. The air crackled with energy as the group stood next to the cottage. They had to open the realm back up to let Cordy go down and warn Angel. And also to help find Wesley. She hadn't reappeared yet, which meant the whole place was open for the taking. It made Doyle more than nervous to admit he was scared shitless.

Lindsey started handing out weapons of all sizes to the occupants. What happened if they were hurt or killed in this realm? Did that mean they would go to hell or actually heaven this time? Lindsey handed him a sword, which Doyle flipped over and over, trying to think of a better way out of this mess.

"The portal opens right in that field over there. That'll be where they attack."

Doyle was not a fighter. Yeah, he could throw a punch or two. He had thrown a punch or two when working with Angel. It just wasn't his style. The weapon in his hands at the moment was definitely not his style.

"You know, if all of us here are already dead, what can they do?"

"Enslave us for eternity in hell, is what."

Oh, well, now that explained all the preparations Lindsey was making. Doyle really didn't like the prospect of spending eternity in hell. He wished in his mind for Cordy to pop back.

"What makes you think we can stop them?"

"They're just demons. It's not like they're gonna be different from anything else we've fought."

"Speak for yourself. Remember, half demon here." As was some of the others in the group gathered.

"Need some help, guys?" a voice sounded off behind the group.

"Oh, crap," Doyle said out loud. His day kept getting suckier and suckier.

"Not from you. Go back to hell," Lindsey said calmly.

"Listen. We don't want the realms collapsing just as much as you don't. I happen to like the fact that none of you do-gooders are around to fuck everything up."

Lindsey growled at the woman. For the life of him, Doyle couldn't remember the lady's name. He had seen her a time before. Had known that Angel and Cordy hated her guts. He also knew that she had worked with Lindsey before his epiphany.

"Lilah, I wouldn't trust you as far as I could throw you. Just leave," Lindsey announced.

"Vail's stepped over the line this time. No one wants him to be ruler over everything. You think for one second . . . ."

"Oh, stuff it, Lilah," Lindsey told her as he kept handing weapons out.

Lilah crossed her arms over her chest, looking so much like a scorned woman it was unbelievable. Her small crew behind her scowled at the larger group that Doyle had gathered.

"Listen, if she can help us," Doyle started.

"You better watch your back around her," Lindsey told him.

Backstabbing woman then? Must have been one of the reasons she was where she was. But there was something else in her eyes.

"For God's sake, Lindsey. I won't stab anyone in the back, at least until the battle is over with."

Lilah smiled like she had just gotten the prize at the county fair. She knew she had Lindsey. Lindsey knew he needed all of the help he could get.

"He won't take you back. You know that, don't you?" Lindsey informed Lilah.

Now this was getting interesting, Doyle thought. Was there another person who wanted redemption in the bunch?

"Who said it was about him, anyway. I want to protect what is mine."

"He's not yours. Will never be yours. Over my already dead body, Lilah," Cordelia announced as she came back.

"Cordelia? How is life treating you lately? Oops, sorry. You died, now didn't you?"

"Look what the cat dragged in? Looking a little tired around the eyes, and that fashion sense of yours has taken a nosedive."

Doyle literally crossed his eyes at the two battling divas in front of him. Lindsey just scowled and clanged two swords together to get their attention.

"You two done with your bitching, because this isn't getting us anywhere fast," Lindsey ground out to the two women.

"Who invited her, Lindsey? Because this is just so wrong on so many levels," Cordelia asked him as she took one of the swords out of his hands.

"She doesn't exactly need an invitation. She's not a vampire or anything. She'll help us though. Won't you, Lilah?"

"Yep, that's me. Helpful Lilah. Ready to help the helpless."

Cordelia growled at the woman under her breath. "She comes near me, that head is coming off, again."

The newly formed group really did have their work cut out for them. Just as Lindsey handed the last sword to Lilah, all hell broke loose.

* * *

Wesley couldn't stop the shaking, but at least now he was a tad warmer. Vail had left his body finally, taking with him all of the dark magicks that the mage had used to come back to this dimension. Wesley should have seen it coming as he had been re-incorporated into his own body. Vail had piggybacked and hitched a ride. He had just made the way a little smoother for the evil mage.

When he would reappear was a mystery. How he would reappear would be even a greater mystery. Now he figured out how he had actually won those few fights he had gotten into. Vail's dark magicks had taken over when he sensed danger, thereby saving the body, if not himself. Now he had also figured out why he felt like he was always fighting himself. Because he just wasn't himself anymore. Why he had mattered in the first place was still a mystery too.

The small hand over top of his warmed his hand some. She had stayed by his side for the duration, trying to protect him from something he didn't understand until now. So now he had to get her out of harm's way and quickly.

"Faith," he whispered to wake her up.

She must be exhausted, he thought. She'd been going non-stop for over a day now, ever since he had reappeared suddenly in her life. And she probably hadn't eaten either. He would owe her big time after this was all over.

Pulling himself up, he shook her awake. Her big, brown eyes fluttered open now, staring up at him in her fog of sleep.

"Did Angel come?" she asked.

Damn vampire. Did he always have to save Wesley? Wesley could very well save himself this time.

"Let's go," he announced, pulling Faith up off of the floor.

"Vail's gone," Faith said, slowly.

"As far as I know, yes. Now let's get out of here before he comes back."

"You don't remember, do you? The only way he's coming back is through you, Wes."

"Well, it would be better to at least be on neutral territory if that happens, don't you think?"

Faith shook her head in agreement. Striding over to the door, Wesley tried to figure out how to open it. There was no door handle to grasp. So Wesley did the next best thing. He punched his way through.

"Whoa," Faith exclaimed behind him.

Whatever magicks Vail had possessed, at least they had left him very strong. He didn't know how long it would last, so he would use it to his advantage.

"Just don't go all creepy on me, Wes. Every time some intense emotion comes over you, the black eyes appear."

So he would control himself. Wes was able to get a hold of the door now that it had a huge gaping hole in the center. Pulling, the door came off of its hinges. He set it down carefully, not wanting to cause any more noise to alert anyone.

"Let's get out of here," he told her as he walked out the door.

"Yeah, Superman. Lead the way. Let's just hope you don't develop that x-ray vision thing any time soon."

Wesley thought that might just come in handy, until he realized that Faith was making a joke, trying to lighten the situation.

"It could come in handy," he responded as they ran down the corridor.

"Then keep your eyes to yourself."

Wesley felt himself blushing, now realizing what she was referring to. Not that he wouldn't look if that became the case. Faith found the entrance Spike had made to the room where he had died previously.

Now all the lights shown brightly in the place. The other difference was the stain on the floor where he had died. It was again covered in blood, his blood probably.

"Oh, shit," Faith exclaimed as they walked into the room.

"Why on earth?" he asked as he approached the blood.

"Don't touch it," Faith told him as she grabbed his arm.

"No, don't touch it. I'm not done with the ritual yet. Then you can touch all you want."

Vail was here in the room, and not inhabiting Wesley's body. He wasn't corporeal, which was a good thing in Wesley's mind. The door at the end of the room slammed shut on its own accord.

"Let us go," Wesley announced with as much bravado as he could.

"You just don't get it, do you? I can't do that. That little battle that Angel and your other friends staged helped me out. Now the rest of them are gone and I can take over. You see, it was I who put this all together."

Faith slowly inched away from him, going for the door. He hoped he could keep Vail's attention until she could get out of there and he could take on Vail this time for real.

"You'll have me believe that you planned this whole thing. Just to obtain power."

"Oh boy, don't you see. Your friends were just my playthings."

"The vision that the Powers gave the seer. That was not your doing. It was meant to take all of you down."

"I knew you were all coming from a mile away, as the saying goes. No, the vision was not my doing. But the rest of it, well, let's just say it still worked out in the end."

Everything that they had done was his doing? Or was he just taking credit for all the wrong that had happened in the last year? He had heard this song and dance before from Skip.

"You'll have me believe that you planned all of this? I can piss better planning than this."

Faith snorted behind him. She was almost to the doors. Hopefully they weren't locked so she could make a break for it. Before he could move forward to take Vail on, he somehow slammed Faith up against the wall.

"See? My powers are still around. I don't need your body anymore to prove that."

Vail then threw one of those fireballs he loved so much straight at Wesley. Putting his hands up, he stopped its forward motion, leaving the thing hanging in the air. Wesley grinned in acknowledgment. He knew what to do now to stop Vail once and for all.


	24. There's Love, There's Hope for Some

Chapter Twenty-Four – There's Love, There's Hope for Some

(from "Shells" Season Five of Angel, spoken by Wesley)

Spike pulled away from Illyria, knowing that what they were doing wasn't right. His conscious told him that she was just worried, wanting to touch something that was real. She wanted her world to make sense, wanted control over it. Illyria had no more control over the world than he did.

"Spike, you do not have to stop," she whispered, voice throaty and deep.

"I do. You know that."

Illyria looked at him, puzzled that he stopped kissing her.

"These emotions, I do not understand. I feel something for you. Do you deny this?"

"No, pet. I don't deny it. It just isn't right. Just because I'm the first male to come along after him."

A look of anger passed over Illyria's face now. Spike knew that her new feelings weren't for him. He kind of wished they were for him. And maybe with time, those feelings could develop into something for him. But Illyria was still too tied up with Percy. Him coming back probably stirred up these feelings within her.

"Do not think that you can understand, Spike. He does not care for me."

Kind of like Buffy didn't care for him in that way. Been there, done that before. He knew he would always hold a spot in the slayer's heart. She just never really loved him the way he wanted to be loved. Nor would Illyria, if she could ever figure out how to love.

"But you care for him, love. Don't deny that to yourself."

"He is lost to me."

"That may be true. Doesn't mean that it will go away any time soon."

Illyria touched the side of his face gently. All he had gotten from her in the past was a fist to his face.

The door swinging open to the roof startled Spike. Angel came striding out, coat flapping in the breeze. The look on his face said it all. There was trouble with a capital T. His discussion with Illyria would have to wait.

"We need to go to Vail's, now," Angel announced.

"Now what?" Spike asked.

"Vail somehow kidnapped Wes and Faith."

"He could not. I killed him," Illyria added, eyes wide and if Spike was not mistaken, fearful.

"Not according to my source."

"Could your source be wrong?" Spike wanted to know. "Not like the first time this has happened with you."

"No, not wrong," Angel answered back sharply.

Angel threw an extra sword to Spike, who caught it squarely with his hand.

"Illyria will stay here," Spike told Angel.

"No. She has to come with us. My source was very specific about that."

"She doesn't have any of her powers. If there is a fight, she could get hurt."

"Spike, I don't have time for this. Vail needs to be put down, once and for all."

Illyria started to back away from the two vampires.

"She can't go, Angel."

"She will."

"I am not going to get her hurt, you ponce."

"We'll protect her."

"Yeah, just like you protected Fred."

Angel winced at Spike's statement, throwing out a punch that caught Spike on the jaw. By now, Spike noticed that Illyria was no longer standing beside him now. She had vanished as they were arguing.

"Damn it," Angel growled as he looked around for her. "I don't have time for this."

"Then stop arguing with me."

"Then get your ass downstairs to grab more weapons."

Spike started to move forward to go downstairs. He now was definitely worried about Illyria. She had run at the first sign of trouble. That was not like her. She never backed down from a fight.

The blue light emanating from Angel's pocket stopped him quickly.

"Hey, mate. Your pocket's glowing," he told Angel as he moved around him to go down the stairs.

Angel pulled out the ring that Spike had taken off the demon in Vail's mansion.

"Yeah, definitely a clue," Spike mumbled as the two hurried down to scrape together enough weapons to take with them.

* * *

"Yes, that's it, my boy. Give in to the dark side of the force."

"Bloody hell. This isn't a movie, Vail."

It seemed like a movie, the standoff was so surreal in Wesley's mind. The fireball still floated right in front of his head. If he gave one inch, he would go up in flames. The talk that he had with Cordy still rolled through his mind. She told him that he had better mojo, better magicks than Vail. She definitely knew something that he didn't. He had relied on old standby magicks while fighting Vail before. But what if he were to fight dirty?

Finally, pushing with all his might, he flung the fireball straight back at Vail. Only it didn't harm the mage one bit. The blue glow surrounding him now seemed to be some kind of shield against the things.

"Company," Faith yelled near the door.

He hadn't looked back to see if she was all right, fearful that he might give up his concentration. Thank goodness she was. But the multitudes of robed figures entering the room didn't bode well for the two of them. From the looks of them, they were Kith'harn demons. They would fight to the death if need be.

A knife went sailing by Wesley's head, barely missing it by less than an inch. Which made him realize that the robed figures were also armed. Lessened their odds even more. He threw two quick fireballs in succession, confusing some of them from heading towards him, incinerating a few in the process.

Faith started in on the first one to approach her menacingly. She still could fight quite well without the strength. He would have to get to her shortly, because she would tire and make herself vulnerable.

A split second later, another knife thrown tried to impale him, but he threw up a hand just like he had with the fireball, stopping it short of his chest. Spinning it in his mind, it hurled back to its sender, striking it dead center of its forehead, making the demon fall to the floor with a thud.

Faith had managed to take out one of them too, which made their odds slightly better – only seventeen to one, instead of twenty-two to one. Vail entered the fray by throwing his signature fireballs Wesley's way. Wesley ducked, helping take out another robed figure. The thing screamed in agony as it dropped to the floor, still in flames.

Wesley knew his luck wouldn't last very long as three of the figures jumped him at the same time. He heard Faith scream off to his right as his head smacked to the floor, making him see stars. All he could think about as the demons tried to stab him with their knives was getting to Faith. With inhuman strength, he threw each demon off of him, slamming all three to the wall in succession. Then he dove for the demon that was on top of Faith. And several more of the robed figures crashed on top of him, putting Faith on the bottom of a huge pile. Things did not look great for the two as they punched and kicked their way out of the mess.

* * *

"Holy shit," Doyle exclaimed as he watched the portal open, emitting demons of all shapes and sizes.

Cordelia gripped her sword tighter, ready to swing the weapon at anything that wasn't friendly. "Can we shut it down again, Lindsey?"

"Too late," he answered back, drawing his sword up in front of him.

"Then we fight, to the death," Lilah smiled to the others.

"OK, already dead here. And that look on your face will sure to frighten at least a few of the demons away, Lilah."

Lilah actually smirked back to Cordelia. First time they did agree on something.

"You will stand down," one really ugly, scaly, pus-filled demon said as he walked in front of the others.

"Ha," Cordelia started. "Listen, you moron. Go back to where you belong."

"You will listen," the demon raged.

"Pfft. Not likely." Cordelia slashed down at the first demon to make its move.

* * *

Both Angel and Spike threw their weight against the doors into Vail's large ballroom. The things weren't budging. Angel could hear the sounds of a fight beyond the closed doors. They just needed to figure out a way to get in there to join the fray.

Spike's eyes lit up with an idea. "Next room," he screamed, running back to an opened door.

He looked for another hidden door, hoping that they weren't all sealed for some odd reason. Working his way around the room, he finally felt the creases where the door was. With one kick, he had punched a significant hole in it. Angel followed with a kick and punch, large enough to emit the two to the hidden corridors beyond.

The vampires didn't have to go far before coming upon the smashed-in hidden door in the ballroom. Fireballs and demon bodies flew around the room in pandemonium. As usual, Spike jumped in head first, literally, taking out the first demon he could reach. Angel drew his sword, going after any and all takers. His sword was covered with demon guts quickly.

* * *

Faith watched as Wesley threw off three demons, scattering them all over. She had managed to take out a few, even without her strength. Training had actually paid off. A commotion on the other side of the room drew her attention. The formerly bleached blonde vampire went flying, tackling several demons, followed by a sword flashing, demon guts spraying everywhere. The cavalry had arrived. She just hoped that Vail didn't have any more demons at his disposal so they could figure out how to banish this guy for good.

Taking her elbow, she smashed it into a demon that thought he could take her down from behind. It grunted in pain from the sharp bone. But her elbow now ached like a son of a bitch. Being a slayer meant not feeling a lot when one was fighting. Now she was feeling every punch, every kick. They needed to get this over with in a fat hurry.

Looking over at Wes, she noticed that he still managed to hold out on that superhuman strength. Until she noticed his eyes fade to black. Now they were in big trouble.

Vail's cackling in the background said it all. He had planned this. He was somehow using Wesley, controlling the man to do something. Wesley stopped fighting the demons then. And turned toward the blood oozing from the floor. Faith had to stop him before he reached the spot. Because whatever she felt when she had touched that spot before was not good.

Running, she tackled him from behind, bringing him down to the floor. Her knees screamed in pain as they hit the hard ground. But that didn't matter because Wesley flipped around and grabbed her arms and slammed her down to the ground so quickly, she didn't even have time to breathe. And his hands around her neck, pressing down even made it harder to breathe.

Her hands clawed at his. The last two times he had done this, he hadn't tried to kill her. This time that seemed like his intent. Or it was Vail's intent as she saw him out of the corner of her eye float over to where the two of them struggled on the floor.

"That's it. Kill her. She is the one who started you down this path. Kill her and you will be free."

The hell he would, Faith thought, vision narrowing slightly. The funny thing was, he could have snapped her neck. Why hadn't he?

"Wesley," Faith managed to squeak out.

He lessened the hold on her slightly, looking down at her with wide, dark eyes. He really looked like he didn't want to kill her; maybe make her suffer some, but not to kill.

"You cannot do it," Vail taunted Wesley. "You are weak, you fool. Take her life, and you will be free. She is your salvation."

Wesley's head quirked to the side, not unlike Illyria's did, Faith noticed. His eyes hadn't returned to their blue, but there seemed to be some recognition now. He was coming out of whatever trance Vail had put him in.

Wesley finally let go of her, leaving her on the floor to breathe. He approached Vail slowly. She couldn't believe though that Vail actually backed up a few paces. Was the mage now scared of him?

"You're a failure, Wesley. You always will be. Everything that you have ever done has been a failure."

"You are not my father," Wesley told Vail calmly.

Then he reached out to touch Vail. Vail screamed like he was in agony.

* * *

It had clicked in Wesley's brain right before his eyes turned black. He knew Vail was using him for some purpose. And he also remembered the effect of merging with his corporeal body again. Vail had also merged with him. So he had been carrying around the dark mage for quite some time. That must have been his plan. Infiltrate Angel's people, then kill them all with whatever superhuman strength his body possessed. Only Vail hadn't counted on Wesley joining too. That Wesley had a much better shot controlling his own body than Vail did. So Vail had to change his plans.

Which meant Wesley could fight him, but only if he could touch him. That should have been difficult since Wesley was corporeal and Vail was not. But that was the only plan Wesley could think of as Vail tried again to take him over.

The strangling of Faith though was the breaking point. Did Vail believe if he killed Faith that he would actually move over to the dark side? That Wesley would not be able to stop himself and ally himself with Vail? Vail really didn't know him very well if he thought that. Then the taunts that sounded so much like his own father were spoken. Since Vail had been inside of his mind, he knew what to do to hurt Wesley deeply. What he didn't count on was Wesley's resolve. And the fact that Faith was the one person in the world that understood him. He would never take his anger out on her.

"Do you really think that I would kill her?" Wesley said as he grimaced in pain also.

The fighting was still going on around him, but it looked like Spike and Angel had the upper hand finally. If Wesley could distract Vail for a while longer, could he somehow figure out how to send him to hell? Killing him hadn't worked before. Total annihilation would have to be the goal.

What he didn't expect was to find Illyria standing right beside him. Her regal blue had returned, ice-blue eyes flashing her arrogance and something else. She was royally pissed off.

"You think that you can toy with me," Illyria started.

The last of the demons went down after a last strike by Angel's sword.

"You caused all of this to happen. This is your fault, you bitch," Vail wailed at Illyria.

"Illyria, be careful," Spike said, still panting from the fight, even though he didn't breathe.

"Tell them what you did, oh great one," Vail mocked her.

Illyria reached out to touch Vail also, knocking Wesley back. Blue sparks of power illuminated her arm that was holding the evil demon. She somehow knew how to hold him in the state he was in. Wesley's arm stung like hell, but he wasn't any worse for wear. But Illyria didn't let go, not feeling any kind of pain. Her face twisted up, like she knew exactly what to do to destroy Vail.

"She changed it. She changed it all," Vail spewed out.

It came to him finally. Illyria also knew what was going to happen. And had tried to change the timeline.

"Why?" Wesley asked her.

"To save you."

Wesley gasped out his surprise. Did she really care for him? Since he was her guide, would she have been lost without him?

"It is my fault. I thought that I could close the portal. But I tried to save both you and Gunn. I failed to save you. And did not close the portal. I needed your power Wesley for that to happen."

Angel spoke up. "You changed what happened? When that time glitch occurred, you changed the timeline. Wes took some of your powers away, but not all of them. You manipulated the situation, so you would have some of your powers left. You knew exactly what Wes was up to."

"Not at first. I believed that he would really kill me."

"No wonder the vision didn't make any sense," Angel sighed.

"It is too late. The portal is opening. You cannot stop what I have started, even if I do perish," Vail informed them.

Wesley looked over at the blood on the floor. It had started to bubble, like it was cooking on the floor. Then energy crackled around and through it.

"How do we close it, Vail?" Wesley growled.

Vail just laughed. "Too late."

Illyria didn't take that as an answer and carried the mage over to the widening hole in the floor. Vail started to squirm a little, maybe realizing that Illyria was on to something.

"His blood to open it, his blood to close it. Illyria, throw him in."

"He is not corporeal. It will not work," Illyria tried to tell him.

Wesley knew exactly what he had to do then. What he was supposed to do in that alley a month ago. He was supposed to close the portal with his magicks, with his blood. That's why he had to die to accomplish it. But why his blood? He hadn't opened the portal.

"You don't really know how much power you wield, boy. Such untapped potential."

Vail reached out to him, dragging him down to the floor, down to his knees. Wesley couldn't break his hold. Illyria pulled back with all her might, trying to make sure that Vail didn't drag Wesley in too. Faith attached herself to Wesley, trying to pull him back. Angel wrapped his strong arms around Wesley's chest, tugging him back from the opening portal.

Vail's eyes widened in surprise. That was all the distraction that Illyria and Wesley needed. Both he and Illyria pushed down, Wesley with his mind, Illyria with the blue glow, sinking Vail into the opening, through the boiling blood on the floor. He screamed in agony because it hadn't quite opened all the way.

"The ring," Illyria cried out.

Angel pulled it out of his coat pocket and tossed it to Illyria. A flash of blue surrounded them all, then a small explosion rocked them all back to the ground. Wesley, Faith and Angel landed in a mass of arms and legs on the floor. Illyria crumpled to the ground in a boneless heap.

"Illyria," Spike yelled as he limped over to her.

* * *

The fight was messy and brutal. But it ended as quickly as it began. All of a sudden the demons flashed out of their realm, leaving the defenders with their swords and other weapons hanging in the air. Lindsey almost hit Doyle as he swung his at nothing.

"Hey, watch it," Doyle screeched.

"Sorry. They're gone," Lindsey smiled.

"I'll be damned," Cordelia exclaimed. "They somehow closed it."

"Yippee," Lilah drawled, covered in demon guts.

"You don't look so good, lawyer lady," Doyle called out.

"Screw you," she called out, wiping her hands down her sides.

"You can leave now," Cordelia announced as she raised her sword towards Lilah.

"Gladly," Lilah spit out.

"Bitch," Cordelia charged on.

"Whore," Lilah retorted back, inching closer to the former seer.

"Lilah, scram," Lindsey said as he stepped in between the two women.

"I am so glad I'm not here with you," Lilah told Cordelia right before she disappeared with a blink.

Cordelia sighed with relief finally. Someone had closed that portal in Angel's dimension. Which is where it needed to be closed since that was where it had opened in the first place. Lindsey and Doyle helped her up off the ground where she had plopped herself after the last demon had disappeared.

"Oh, man, do I need a shower," Cordelia announced.

Lindsey leered at her. Doyle saw the leer and cuffed the man on the head.

* * *

"What just happened?" Angel asked.

"That hurt," Faith added.

"Bugger," Wesley whispered as he held his ribs. "I think you cracked a couple of ribs."

Spike stood over Illyria, trying to find a pulse, trying to find any sign of life. Her body did not stir. "She's dead," he cried to the others, bewildered that she could actually die.

Whatever power she possessed she had put it all in to closing the portal by using the ring. Wesley hung his head, mourning her as he would any other warrior. She had died to save the rest of them from more demons pouring through. Vail surely would have taken over this dimension and moved on to many more, virtually unstoppable.

"I don't understand how she did it. Didn't you say that it was Vail's blood that opened it?" Angel asked, curious about her intent.

"I assumed it was. Could have been a feedback loop from the ring to the portal. It could even have been as simple as his blood coming into contact with the portal." Wesley really didn't know the answer to her sacrifice.

"She was blue, the ring was blue. There must be a connection," Faith added.

"Illyria opened this portal," Spike told them, voice flat. "Remember? When she wanted to raise her army against us? I have a feeling that good old Knox handled much more than just being her lap dog."

"I thought we had closed that. Vail must have somehow figured out how to harness it and use it for his own evilness," Angel pointed out.

Wesley thought he had closed the portal. He had come back through, right after telling her she now knew how he had felt after Fred had been taken away from him. His world had disappeared that day also. She had seemed resigned to her fate then, wanting his help to live in the world where she had been resurrected.

"Her blood opened it, her blood closed it. Damn vision didn't work, Angel." Spike curled his lip up in a sneer and punched out at the wall behind him, angry at everything.

* * *

Cordelia and Doyle congratulated themselves on a job well done. Lindsey stood off to the side, watching all the goings on in this realm. Cordelia wondered now if the Powers That Be would give him a chance to prove himself, maybe help them out and be an angel.

"Hey, you haven't just popped back to where you belong? What gives?" Cordelia asked Lindsey.

"No. I have to go. Just wanted to watch it one more time."

"She must have been special. Hell, you could have been with Lilah."

"Don't worry. I never wanted to be pushing paper for the rest of my undead existence. Lilah's had to fill out more forms than I thought possible."

Cordelia snickered. "So that's where she is? Kind of funny if you think about it."

Cordelia looked off into the distance, wondering why people did things for love. Knowing that she had done it too many times to count, she reminisced on several joyous occasions where she had done just that. A light breeze picked up as everyone shuffled this way and that. Off in the distance, a figure sat in the middle of the field.

"Guys, were we supposed to get someone new?" she asked.

"Don't ask me. I don't work here," Lindsey replied.

"Not that I know of. They're very selective," Doyle told her.

"Then who's that?" she answered, pointing to the figure in the distance.

"Hmm. Why don't we find out?" Doyle said to her.

The three strolled over to the figure, who sat on the blanket that all new arrivals sat upon until someone greeted them.

Cordelia drew up short as she came closer. The two men stopped with her, sensing Cordelia's hesitation. The woman turned to look straight at her, tears of wonder in her eyes. Cordelia's tearful eyes matched the new arrival.

"This can't be happening," Cordelia whispered.

The familiar goofy, wide smile greeted her as Cordelia finished her journey over to the blanket.


	25. There's Hope That You'll Find Something Worthy

Chapter Twenty-Five – There's Hope That You'll Find Something Worthy

(from "Shells", Angel—Season Five)

"You're still here," Angel said as he sat down behind his desk. It was almost like he didn't believe it either. Wesley still existed. He hadn't withered away to dust.

"I am. Although what I don't understand is why?" Wesley responded to Angel, not exactly expecting an answer.

Wesley sat down opposite of Angel on the other side of the desk. This was a familiar sight, Wesley thought - the two of them conversing in the office after slaying some evil demon. This very scene had taken place so long ago, them paling around as they recapped the events. He didn't know whether he liked that feeling or not. Hell, he still didn't know whether he liked being alive again.

"Mistake, perhaps?" Angel shrugged. "Maybe this is the way it's supposed to be."

"Vail made it happen. That's all I know. He apparently was going to use my body to bring the rest of you down. I shudder to think what evil he could have wrecked on this world being corporeal again."

"Good plan."

"Yes, excellent, if you ask me."

Ah, something they agreed on. That didn't happen very often. Things had changed so much in their relationship over the years. They had agreed on so much, especially the mission, up until the incident with Connor. He really didn't think that they could agree on anything ever again.

"What he didn't count on was you, Wes. And by the way, my head still hurts."

Angel actually smiled at him, not that demonic smile when he was pissed off, but a real, honest-to-goodness smile. Wesley didn't know how to react, so he just nodded in agreement again.

"Ribs not exactly a picnic, I can assure you."

"Are we gonna sit here and bitch and moan about our battle wounds?"

Would that be preferable to Wesley? Angel and Faith had saved him from being sucked into the portal with Vail. And Illyria had taken Vail out finally, having failed the first time.

"Seems like a plan at the moment."

"You always were good at planning," Angel answered back very sarcastically.

"Not to say that your plan wasn't a good one to take on the Circle of the Black Thorn. I just would have liked more time to prepare."

"Yeah, apparently. Since Vail managed to twist a knife in your gut."

"Don't start with me," Wesley stated, starting to stand from his chair.

"You gave up."

"I did what you asked me to do."

"You didn't have the confidence to take him on then. But you did have it to take me on. Pretty ballsy if you ask me."

Angel paid him a compliment. A backhanded compliment, but a compliment nonetheless. It amazed him how much he wanted Angel's approval even now, after everything they had been through together. Wesley sank back down into the chair again, ribs protesting as he did.

"So, what will you do now?" Angel asked.

"Sit here and wait to die again, I suppose."

"Not going to happen."

"How do you know?"

"Hey, because I'm Angel, OK. And what I say, goes."

"You sound like Cordy."

"Yeah, thought I'd channel her for a while."

Wesley laughed a little. He missed Cordelia fiercely. Would she want him to give up his special place to try again in the cruel world he had re-entered? He truly wished he could ask her. And he also wished he could sleep for a week or so to recover from the stress of the last couple of days.

"I should go," Wesley finally said, getting up slowly from his seat.

"Wait. I thought that you'd stay. Spike's not doing too well, and I'm a wreck. Faith needs someone to help her out. And I don't even want to tell you how bad off Gunn is. I need you. No, let me rephrase that. We need you, Wes."

That was something Angel had never told him, at least that he could remember. That Wesley was actually needed by him. Not in the sexual sense, because that just made him feel too uncomfortable to think about it, but in the sense of needing him there to help. Angel had managed before Wesley had arrived in Los Angeles, and had managed all that time that Wesley was estranged. Of course, for most of the time he was estranged, Angel was at the bottom of the ocean.

"So you add the messed up, potentially deadly, though not in the dead sense mind you, somewhat deranged at times ex-watcher rogue demon hunter. It sort of makes sense, if you look at it that way."

"You'll stay?" Angel asked, a look of hope on his face.

"I need to consult with Faith."

Angel stared at him like he'd really lost his mind. "I'm not sure why you need to do that," Angel said slowly.

"Neither am I. But I'm still her watcher, whether she likes it or not. I'm not going to abandon her just because you and I can't settle our differences."

"Then maybe we need to bury the hatchet, as they say. You know, I never understood that phrase. Sounds violent to me, but it's supposed to mean fixing something," Angel said as he pulled himself up, wincing at the movement.

"It won't be easy," Wesley added, rolling his eyes at Angel going off on the tangent.

"Have we ever done easy around here?" Angel finished as he made his way over to the door.

"Angel, Wes, come out here," Spike yelled as Angel held the doorknob.

The scene Wesley entered into made his blood boil. Faith was in trouble. And he had figured out just who had taken her power away.

* * *

Faith sat on the round sofa, actually holding the damn vampire's hand. His coldness felt good against her bruised knuckles. Her whole body felt like one big bruise. When she got her slayer powers back, she wasn't taking them for granted ever again. She liked the fact that she could heal ten times faster than any other human. Now she couldn't.

Spike was dejected that Illyria had died while sealing that portal and taking Vail with her in the process. They must have become close, she thought. Kind of like her and Wes. Man, she didn't know what to think about him now. She really wanted to ask him if she could stick around, knowing that his approval was what she craved, not Angel's. Soulboy would approve of whatever she did, just as long it didn't involve killing someone.

"So, Illyria? Spike, I'm not sure what to say other than I'm sorry," Faith wanted the vampire to know.

"It's OK, you know. I knew exactly how she felt. I knew why she did what she did. I'd done it before myself."

Spike dropped her hand to move around the lobby. She watched him pace back and forth, thinking on his feet.

"I'm not catching your meaning," Faith asked hesitantly.

"She went down in a blaze of glory for her man. Sort of what I did for Buffy."

"I don't think it was just for Wes. I think she figured out she did wrong and wanted to fix it. You were just stupid."

Spike stopped right in front of her, pointing a finger down into her face. Oh man, she shouldn't have opened her mouth. But she had to. Her attitude couldn't help scream out. She wanted Spike to know how she felt about his sacrifice.

"Excuse me? Fuck off."

"Hey, been there, done that. Listen, you did what you did in Sunnydale because you had to. Your reasons are your own. But don't think for one second that you did it only for her."

"Bloody hell, why else would I have done it? Not much fun going up in flames."

"Hey, you were atoning for all the wrong that you did too. If you think your sob story of saving the one you love is gonna hold as the only reason, then you're fucking crazy."

"You don't know me," Spike growled back.

"Yeah, I do. Welcome to the death wish club. Sometimes I wonder why I keep going."

Faith looked into his blue eyes, trying to see if he really understood what she was talking about. The four of them in the hotel right now were lost souls on a journey to find redemption. That's what made them so good at battling the forces of evil. At least, that's what she kept telling herself every day.

Pushing past him, she strode outside to the sunlight, because she knew he couldn't follow. Standing in the warm sun, she contemplated whether she should just take off now that everything had calmed down. Maybe go back to the apartment and sleep for two days. Her stomach growled in reply, since she hadn't eaten since the day before. So she closed her eyes momentarily to take in a second of peace and quiet.

"Hello, Faith," Robin Wood said from behind her.

The second she had closed her eyes, she had felt him near. But she hadn't wanted to break the tranquility she felt in her head. And she hoped that he would just go away.

"Yeah, hi. What do you want?"

"Isn't that obvious?"

She turned to look at Robin, not knowing what he meant by that statement. He had a look in his eyes that she had never seen before. A look of hate, betrayal. Something was definitely wrong.

"Not so obvious here, bud. You wanna tell me what's going on?" she asked as she shuffled back a few steps, hoping to break for the door as soon as she could.

"You ruined it. No doubt about that." Robin swung the taser stick out from behind his back. "Now, if you come quietly, we'll solve this matter between us and be heading back to Cleveland."

"Uh, one, I don't know what I ruined. Two, I don't think going back to Cleveland is going to solve anything."

She wanted to add you moron to the end of her sentence, but thought that it wouldn't be a good idea to piss off the guy with the weapon. Hoping that Spike actually saw what was happening, she expected for someone to at least poke his head out to see what Robin was doing there. But what if Spike had exited the lobby? Angel and Wes could be in that office for hours trying to hash out their differences.

"You were supposed to stay."

Faith shook her head no. "Listen, I don't really know what you're talkin' about. So why don't we go back into the lobby, and sit down for a little chat."

"Sorry."

Robin punched the taser stick out at her, hoping to catch her directly in her stomach. Her reflexes saved her from the first try. Stumbling, he backed her up against the outside garden wall. She knew exactly how strong he was, what his strengths and weaknesses were in a fight. He had her blocked in by the stairs to her left and planters to her right. If she stumbled either way, he would have her instantly. So she stood stock still, hoping to still talk him out of whatever he had planned.

"Why are you doing this, Robin?" she asked softly.

"I have to take you back. I have to protect what's mine. I'm your watcher, remember?"

"I can protect myself. You know that."

"Not now, you can't. I'm here for you."

Robin was sweating like it was a hundred degrees outside, when it was only in the seventies this early in the morning. If she could keep him talking, maybe she could escape. Or maybe one of the idiots would come out when they saw that she had left.

* * *

"What?" Angel said as he came out of his office.

"Wood's here. They're outside and it doesn't sound friendly. I can't go out there without turning into a big pile of dust."

Wesley started to charge outside to see if Faith was in danger.

"You can't just go running out there, Wes. We need a plan," Angel said as he peeked outside.

The two were still talking, Faith backing up against the wall. Wes noticed that the man had a taser stick in his hand. He was gesturing wildly towards Faith.

"Plan? My plan is to go out there and use my fists to say hello. Is there a problem with that?"

"Angel school of planning, I see," Spike commented, gesturing towards Angel.

"Just jump at him from the steps," Angel told Wes as he raced outside.

Both Spike and Angel followed his progress to the door, hoping that if the watcher failed, that they could somehow join in to help Faith.

"Let him handle it, Angel," Spike said as he put a hand up. "He needs to do this. Been a while since he's been able to save the girl."

Both vampires knew exactly to what Spike referred. It had been a while for the both of them too.

* * *

Wesley opened the door, took a flying leap and landed on Robin Wood with a hard thud, bringing him to the ground. As he was lunging off the top of the stairs, he noticed that Faith managed to just kick the taser out of Wood's hands forcefully, so at least he wouldn't be slammed with electricity. Wood's body didn't help cushion the blow as they both hit the concrete hard. Luckily, Wood was stunned by Wesley's actions. So that gave him the opportunity to put a fist to the man's face. Wood fought back immediately, throwing a punch to his face. Then it was a free-for-all. The two kicked and punched while grappling on the ground. Suddenly, the fight was over with, because Faith had managed to retrieve the taser from where she had kicked it. Wood got it square on the chest. It was just luck that Wesley hadn't been touching him at that moment, or he could have been shocked too. Or that was his guess.

Wesley rolled over, clutching his ribs tightly. His breathing was short and shallow, pain stabbing his chest.

"You remember those ribs," Wesley managed to pant out. "Well, now I think one of them is broken. I can't breathe."

Faith gave Wood one more shot with the taser as she knelt down to the ground. "That was fucking crazy, you know that."

Wesley just nodded yes as his head became dizzy from the lack of oxygen.

* * *

"You are such a fucking genius, you know that," Faith said as she sat beside Wesley's bed in the hospital. "Didn't want to wait to go back to wherever you were."

Wesley didn't open his eyes. He just lay in the bed, hooked up to monitors. Way too similar to Gunn. At least Gunn was awake and complaining now. Wesley hadn't moved in almost a day. After fixing the punctured lung, the doctors would give him a clean bill of health, just as long as everything healed all right. He was bruised and battered, but nothing permanently damaged.

She didn't want him to die again. It had been so hard the first time. He deserved a second chance, to start over. And whatever he decided to do, she would be there with him, if that was what he wanted.

"Are watchers supposed to sit on their asses all day? You've been in this bed for ages. Time to at least open your eyes."

She'd taken to insulting him for the last fifteen minutes, thinking it could bring him around so she would be assured that he was going to actually wake up. But he was just as thoroughly exhausted as she was. She had slept in a chair for a couple of hours, but otherwise had been at his side after they wheeled him into the room they were now occupying.

Gently, she laid her head down on his chest, just to assure herself that he was actually still breathing. Which made him yelp a little, but not fully wake up. Moving her head to the side, she sighed against his shoulder now. Slowly, she drifted off to sleep, none too comfortable, but too exhausted to care.

She awoke a while later to the feeling of Wes's hand in her hair. He was stroking her head? Now that did freak her out a little. She didn't know whether she should move out of his reach or stay there and let him do it some more.

"I seemed to have sprouted a growth on my arm," he quietly said as she moved just slightly.

"Shut it. I'm sleeping. And since you have the only bed in the room, you moron, I just thought that you should share."

"You talk in your sleep too."

He must be feeling better if he can joke with her. "There are other things that I can do in a bed, but now's not the time to think about that," she shot back.

She felt him squirm just a little. Raising her head, she saw him smile at her.

"You know, I had it under control."

"It didn't look that way," Wesley told her.

"I had already disarmed him. He was going down."

"Yes, that seemed to be my intent also."

"I am not the fucking damsel in distress."

"I didn't say you were."

"You acted like it though."

"I didn't know whether he had another weapon on him."

"So you just take a flying leap at the crazy person who took my strength away. You're an idiot, you know that."

Faith scraped the chair back to stand over him. He tried to sit up, but was unsuccessful, because he was in too much damn pain.

"Lay back down. You wanna have to stay in here any longer?"

"Believe me, Faith. I will be up and out of your hair as soon as I can."

Oh, man, and she just thought they were just having a mild discussion. He really thought that she wanted him to leave.

"Well, it seemed to me, Wesley," Faith started, drawing out the end of his name to piss him off, "that you wanted to be in my hair since you were doing just that when I woke up."

His face turned red, but he didn't back down. "Don't think that I'll ever be in the position to comfort you again, Faith, since you'll be leaving soon."

"Ha. You don't know the first thing about me."

"You don't know the first thing about me," he answered back, starting to breathe heavily.

"I know enough to know that you're a stupid asshole."

"Nice insult Faith," Wesley told her sarcastically. "It's what you do best. Now, I would like so peace and quiet, if you will."

"Sorry. I'm not moving."

"Fine. I'll just sleep."

Faith couldn't believe how juvenile he was being. Not that she wasn't being juvenile right back. He screwed his eyes shut, closing them too tightly to be comfortable.

"You are such a fucking moron," Faith grumbled.

"Shh," Wesley admonished her.

"Bastard," she shot back.

"Shh," he told her again.

"Scoot over," she finally said, realizing the only way she was actually going to get any rest was to be comfortable next to him.

"No," was his answer.

"Hey, don't mess with me, watcherboy. I'm not in a good mood right now."

Her tone of voice must have gotten through to him, because he complied, shifting over so she could fit beside him. He continued to grumble at her under his breath, but he finally settled down.

"Why do I put up with you?" he asked finally.

"Because you have to. Now go to sleep. I'm here to protect you."

"You couldn't hurt a flea."

"If you haven't noticed, neither can you."

"This bloody hurts. I guess I'm just Wesley now."

"Yeah. Not dead Wesley. Not inhumanly strong Wesley. Not kicking everyone's butt Wesley. Just my Wes." She could feel him choke just a little at her statement. "My watcher, I mean," she added.

"Right. Right," he agreed.

Careful to avoid tangling up in any of the several lines that were plugged into his body, she snuggled up to him and fell asleep quickly.

* * *

"Is he OK? I mean, I don't remember much of what happened. I mean, I do remember all of it, but I don't remember anything after what happened to me."

Cordelia looked at her friend as they sat next to each other on a comfortable sofa, in the same exact cottage that she had talked with Wes. The ramblings soothed her just a little.

"I'm sure he is, Fred. I haven't been able to contact Angel just yet."

"He died?"

"Yes, he did."

"Idiot."

"My thoughts exactly."

Fred was still not quite with it from the look on her face. Her soul must have been floating around in the ether for quite some time. Illyria dying had brought Fred's soul to where it belonged.

"This Vail guy brought him back?" Fred asked.

"Not exactly brought him back, as much as Wes's soul re-entered his own body. Vail must have somehow kept it alive."

"But he was dead."

"That's what Illyria told the others."

Cordelia still didn't understand any of it either. Wesley should have been able to come back to their realm. But it seemed now that he was tightly bound to the world of the living. He was alive again. And the only way he was coming back would be if he died again.

"A lot happened. I remember everything. Wes taking Connor, Jasmine, evil Cordy."

Cordelia winced a little at that. She had hoped that everyone had forgotten about that history. Now everyone mentioned it when they talked to her. Not the kind of rep she wanted to earn.

"Angel wiped everyone's memories of Connor, to give him a new life."

"He meddled."

"That's our Angel. But you? I'm not even sure what to say to you."

Cordelia wondered how Fred was dealing. Having died, her body taken over by an Old One, soul floating, then coming here to have two sets of memories.

"I'm just happy to be here. It was so cold and lonely where I was."

She had to ask Fred what she felt for Wes. She had seen through Angel's eyes the anguish that Wesley had felt. Would Fred not be able to rest until Wesley died again?

"Hon, I need to ask you something. I know it will be difficult."

"I'm happy for him, Cordy."

Damn girl was always too smart for her own good. And she saw things that other people never saw. Cordelia could see how much it hurt Fred to be here, instead of with Wesley.

"You're not sad because he wasn't here to be with you?"

"I'm still tryin' to figure out what my feelings really were for him. Those two sets of memories sure are playing havoc with my little ole brain."

But Cordelia could see the sadness in her eyes. Fred had totally rejected him before, only to seek him out after her memories were erased. That might take some time to sort out.

"We're here to help."

"I know."

Doyle and Lindsey strolled in, obviously in a heated discussion about something because it looked as if they would come to blows if someone didn't intervene.

"No way, you stupid jerk," Doyle continued.

"Hey, what do you know," Lindsey answered.

"OK, OK. Why is it I'm always playing referee? Now what?"

"Oh, we were just makin' a bet on the Lakers game," Doyle told her, smiling her way.

"That's all?" Cordelia said, miffed that they would be arguing about something like that.

Fred giggled a little. Maybe with time, Cordelia could help her deal with her new status. She was just so glad that her friend was here now, along with the two stupid idiots in front of her. And she hoped that her best friends on the other plane were dealing too. Because she so did not want to go down there and kick the vampire's butt again any time soon.


	26. Begin Again

Chapter Twenty-six – Begin Again

"This is so not what I was expectin'," Gunn said from the hospital room door.

Wesley's eyes flew open, glad that his friend was there to see him. But the woman who had wrapped herself around him was another story. Damn, Gunn had terrible timing. And Faith had even worse timing.

"Faith, wake up," he implored her, poking her to move.

Her hand moved through his hair as she snuggled her face against his neck. If he wasn't breathing heavily because of the lung, now he was breathing heavily because of her closeness. And the fact that Gunn had entered the room.

"I can come back, English," Gunn told him.

"No, that's alright, Gunn. Just stay. She was just sleeping, I swear."

Gunn just smiled a little, still sitting in his wheelchair at the door. It did bother Wesley that Gunn was now in a wheelchair. He hoped that there was not any permanent damage done. He had been in a coma for weeks, according to Angel.

"Faith, Gunn is here," Wesley said to her again, shaking her to wake up.

"Hey, Chuck. Come join us."

"What?" they both shouted.

"Just kidding," she managed to croak out, peeling herself off of Wesley to sit up at the side of the bed.

He sighed in relief. His mind could not quite wrap itself around Faith and her tenderness.

"You two are so gullible. You know that. What's up, Gunn?"

"Just came to see how Wes was doing. And I needed to get out of that hospital room before Helga came back."

"Helga," both Wes and Faith mouthed.

"Physical therapist. She's killing me, man. I can't wait to get out of here."

Faith snickered a little. "We could break you out."

"Faith, he needs to recover well enough to leave," Wesley chided her.

Not that he wanted Faith to break him out of the hospital soon. He hated them with a passion. Seeing the inside of one too often caused him to break out in a rash.

"And I wanted to see with my own eyes. You have more lives than a cat, Wes."

Great, one of his best friends was comparing him to a cat. Gunn smiled at the look that Wesley shot him. Were they still best friends? He wondered that about Angel also. Things had changed significantly. It would take time and lots of effort to repair all the relationships. He didn't know if he wanted to stick around. The memories might get the better of him.

"I've used up all nine of them."

"And I'm protecting him, so no dying," Faith added with a grin.

"Not everyday you have a slayer watching your back," Gunn finished.

He had told Angel that he needed to discuss with Faith what her next move was. He knew from Angel that she had quit her job, so she was free to make some decisions.

"Uh oh, Gunn. He's thinking again. Find me something to whap him upside the head."

"I did need to discuss with you what you intended to do," he told her.

"Hey, I need to go back before Helga puts out an all points bulletin and she ties me to the bed."

"Thanks for putting that vision in my brain, Chuck."

"You're welcome, Faith. I'm just down the hall. Don't be a stranger."

Gunn rolled over to shake Wesley's hand. Their secret little handshake came back to him instantly. Gunn smiled in return. Maybe they could get back to some semblance of peace between them.

"Didn't you stick a knife in him?" Faith finally asked after Gunn left.

Why did she have to remind him about his failures? He was in such a rage at that time, right after Fred had died, that he didn't know how to feel, much less contain the rage he felt against his friend. He lashed out, not thinking of the consequences. Just as he had lashed out at Angel too. Maybe it would be best if he just left the city.

"It's complicated," he responded after a moment's hesitation.

"Yeah, because you don't do easy. OK, ask me again."

"Oh, about what you might do now?"

"I'm not sure what to do, Wes. I can stick around here, watch all of you beat on yourselves until there's nothing left or I can see the world, maybe find some hot body to be my sugar daddy."

Wesley tried to laugh, but it hurt too much. His chest was still so sore.

"Hey, are you choking or do you think that's funny?" she asked as he wheezed.

"Quite funny, actually. At least you have the beginnings of a plan."

"Well, since yours is 'let me lay here until I die', I thought I'd be proactive."

"A proactive Faith. Now that's a scary thought if there ever was one."

Faith lightly tapped him on the shoulder with her fist. "Hey, when I get those slayer powers back, and you're healed, I'm gonna have a few words with you."

"Which means you'll have to stick around for that to happen. It could be a while."

Faith grinned at him. "You want me to stay?"

"It is up to you."

He really wanted her to stay, if just to help her find her place in the world. And the fact that she made him forget just for a moment what he was missing in his life.

"I just wanted to tell you I'm sorry about Fred."

"Thank you. That's means a lot coming from you. She was special."

"I know," Faith added, taking a hold of his hand to show how much she cared. "And she'd probably kick your butt if she saw how you've been acting."

"Yes, you are right. She would."

"So I'll hang with you on one condition."

Great, she wanted something from him. It wasn't like he had much to begin with to give her.

"You'll be my watcher again," she stated emphatically.

He really didn't know what to say. He had been a complete failure at it before. Now she wanted him to try again.

"Faith, I'm not sure I'm the best candidate."

"Listen, you're the only one that ever gave a damn. Robin was just wacko, and Giles already had Buffy. Now you have me. No, what I mean is I have you. No, that didn't come out right. OK, we need each other. You know what I mean," Faith rambled on, getting worked up by the second.

They really did need each other to get through this mess. He didn't know what he would do. But if she was there to give me a reason to go on, then it might be worth a shot.

"I'm not guaranteeing anything. You'll have to listen to me."

"You'll have to listen to me."

"You'll have to follow orders."

"You'll have to make sure those orders are ones I can follow."

"So the next question is, do we stay here with Angel?"

Faith bowed her head, like she didn't want to answer that question. He didn't know whether he did either. Her shrug didn't tell him anything.

"Do we have to decide today?"

He smiled at her logic. She was correct. They didn't have to make any more decisions today.

"No. I think one is enough."

"Good. Then let's see if they'll spring you. Go make sure your apartment hasn't been looted or anything."

Having a purpose after all he had gone through in the last two years actually felt good. It made the worry and heartache lift just a little. He just wished that all his friends were here to share this newfound purpose.

* * *

"Thought maybe I'd find you up on the roof tonight that big pile of dust you so happily refer to becoming," Angel called out to Spike as he sat in the basement, huddled in a corner.

"Just thought I'd come down here to think is all."

"Sulk is more like it. I'm sorry about Illyria, Spike."

Coming from the poof, that was a first. Angel never said he was sorry about anything to anyone, from what Spike remembered.

"I liked her. She had spunk. Kind of like the slayer. Except a little scarier at times."

He really didn't want Angel trying to make him feel better. Illyria had been special. She had sacrificed herself for the greater good. He knew what that felt like. Maybe the watcher had done his job after all. Spike bloody well knew he didn't. Illyria was just coming into her own before all this happened.

"So what now?" Angel mused as he sat down on the stairs leading up to the lobby.

"Don't know. Wolfram and Hart will still be gunning for us, that's for sure. Maybe we should disappear for a while. Go to Europe."

"Oh no, you don't. We're not going anywhere near Buffy. I thought we had that settled."

The big poof really didn't get it, did he? Spike just wanted to get away from all the memories that the place had created. It wasn't like the place had been sucked into a great, big hole like Sunnydale. Spike shook his head back and forth.

"Not what I was suggesting. I just thought we should keep moving. The big boys will figure out how to come after us again. Might as well be on our terms. Of course, we could just go to the Watchers' Council and see what's up."

"Why would we want to do that? They're just way too scary."

"Oh really. And I just thought two vampires were enough to frighten most of the population," Giles called out from the top of the stairs.

"You should have told me, Spike," Angel growled.

"You're getting old, mate. You didn't even hear him coming."

"God, maybe I am getting old."

"Will you two tell me what the bloody hell you've done with Faith?" Giles yelled at them. "And Spike, why are you alive?" he added at the end.

"I have to remember that Andrew keeps secrets well," Spike said, pulling himself up off the ground.

"We haven't done anything with Faith, Giles. She came to us."

"Robin Wood tried to kill her. You want to tell me what has been going on?"

Angel chuckled from his perch. "You are not going to believe us if we told you."

"Hey, mate. You might give ole Giles a heart attack if he knows."

Spike was jesting with the watcher. He always liked to remind the man that he was getting older. Not that the man hadn't aged well, but nonetheless older than most of his friends. And the fact that the man tended to survive a lot of battles.

"Let's go to my office. I'm the only one who can brood around here," Angel told Spike.

"Did you copywrite it or something?" Spike threw back.

"Just tell me the story so I can find Faith, you two," Giles shot back, clearly annoyed with them.

* * *

Giles almost choked when Angel told him that Wesley was alive. He had never seen the man get that surprised by something. He thought that Giles had seen just about everything.

"That's not possible," Giles concluded.

"Just like two souled vampires wasn't possible. Makes you wonder, now doesn't it, Rupert," Spike added for emphasis.

"It does, William."

The three men had settled down in Angel's office, going through the whole story with Giles. He watched as Spike threw Giles the very American gesture of the middle finger. Faith's influence, no doubt.

"I think I've figured out how to restore Faith's abilities. Do you know where she is, by chance?"

"Hospital, with the younger watcher. And I thought that the older you ponces got, the more cautious you became. I really have to say the man's a bit daft."

Angel knew that Spike was joking about Wes. Would the two of them drive him crazy if they stayed together? He wouldn't blame Wesley if he wanted to disappear and lead a more normal life at this point. Not many people could be brought back to life and not be evil to boot.

"Robin is in our custody now. We'll take good care of him. Seems one of the slayers found some very interesting writings that Wood had done. Although it was totally wrong for her to read them, it appears that Wood was trying to bring back his mother."

"Damn, now that's scary," Spike said.

"And I believe he would have attempted it with Faith. Nikki didn't deserve that."

Angel saw how Spike shivered just a little. Since he had killed Nikki, her coming back to life would not have been good for him.

"You'll help him?" Angel asked.

"As best we can," Giles answered back, rising to leave. "I should find Faith. I've devised a ritual to bring back her powers. I do believe the sooner I perform it, the better."

"Have Wes do it," Angel quickly added before Giles could get out of the room.

Giles tilted his head like he was seriously thinking about doing just that.

"I have a feeling that Faith's going to want him to be her watcher again. It might help."

"It's a complex spell. I'm not sure he has that kind of power."

Both Angel and Spike chuckled. They had seen how much power the man had. If he developed it correctly, he just might rival Willow in power, but Angel didn't tell Giles that. He would have that discussion later, when things were quiet.

* * *

"Faith, I'm fine. You don't have to mother me."

Yes, she thought she had to mother him. He had saved her life from her crazy, sort of watcher. She thought she owed him big time. Why didn't she realize that she didn't? She placed a pillow behind his head on the couch to make him more comfortable and had made him a cup of tea.

"At least no one could enter still. Thank goodness your landlord fixed the door."

"Yes, along with the eviction notice tacked to it. Thirty days is better than being out on the street."

So, he would have to find a new place to stay. What would happen to Faith? Neither one of them had a job now. Could they just travel around and freelance?

"OK, now food. The doctors said to keep up your strength, so I'm gonna go fix something. It might just be tuna fish, but that's protein, right?"

Wesley thought that maybe she was fattening him up so she could punch his lights out when he got better. He really did need to start researching a cure for her lost powers. Faith walked into the kitchen finally. He breathed a sigh of relief. He had to remember to not get hurt as often, because this would be the scenario he would have to live through. Only Cordelia had ever fussed over him, and her idea of comfort was to slap a bandage on and tell him to not get hurt again. The banging on the door drew him out of his thoughts about the past.

Before he could reach the door, Faith had come out of the kitchen.

"Who?" she mouthed.

Wesley looked through the peephole, hoping that it was just Spike or Angel. The man on the other side didn't surprise him one bit. As a matter of fact, he was hoping that Giles would come calling sooner, rather than later.

"Giles," Wesley said out loud.

"Don't let him in," Faith said, loud enough for Giles to hear through the door.

"I have to. He might know of something that could help you."

Faith snarled up her nose, like there was something she didn't want to do, but would do it if he said so. Wesley opened the door to reveal Giles, who was not too pleased to see him.

"You put her in danger," Giles started off.

Not a hello, how have you been, or oh, I see that you're alive instead of dead greeting. Giles was thoroughly pissed off at him. Would nothing ever change? When Giles tried to step over the threshold, he hit a barrier, so he couldn't enter. Faith giggled a little from behind him.

"Good one, Wes," she announced.

Wesley hadn't wanted anyone from the Council entering his apartment after he was dead, just so they wouldn't take possession of anything he owned, especially his diaries. Those he had wanted to give willingly.

"You can come in," Wesley told the watcher.

Giles was able to step through then. He carried a sack and a large spell book underneath his arm. Wesley almost salivated because now he knew exactly why Giles had tracked them down.

"You know how to help Faith?" Wesley asked the older man.

"Exactly. I found a way to reverse what Robin did to her."

"Hey, you two. I'm standing right here. Why do watchers have to be jerks and English? Makes it even more difficult to get through to them."

Wesley smiled at her, knowing she just wanted to rant. Giles handed the materials over to Wesley.

"Where would you like to set up, Rupert?"

"No. You should perform the spell. I came to the realization just a few hours ago."

"He's been hurt, Giles. I'm not gonna cause him to go back into the hospital," Faith wanted Giles to know.

"I'm also here to offer the two of you jobs."

"I knew you shouldn't have let him in," Faith told Wesley, scowling at Giles.

"Faith and I have not decided what we will do."

"I see. Angel and Spike are going to England. Just thought you should know. To brief the new Council on the battle that was staged."

Wesley couldn't believe his ears. Angel and Spike were going to cooperate with the very organization that a few years before would stake them on sight.

"Not an elaborate plan to just dust them, is it?" Faith asked the question that was on the tip of his tongue.

"No. It's a very different group of people."

"Not with my father in it," Wesley added with a bit of venom.

"He's officially retired as of a week ago. I started to research some things from the past and it occurred to me that many of the issues that the Council had in the first place were caused by many of the edicts that your father had put into place. He and Quentin Travers were quite the twosome."

"Good. So Dad's out. What's to say that there aren't others?"

He was letting Faith speak for him, since his brain was turning over and over with the thought of becoming a real, honest-to-goodness watcher again. Was it something he really wanted? He had worked so hard to even banish the thought of becoming the very thing that made him a failure in the first place.

"We don't know that for sure. We will never know. I can guarantee that the two of you will operate with as much autonomy as you wish."

"Oh, that means we get to do what we want," Faith said, happy with herself that she knew exactly what Giles was getting at.

"In a fashion, yes. You would only answer to me. If that would be agreeable."

Wesley was practically shaking inside. On the outside, he was as cool and collected as he could be. They would have to discuss this at length to see if it was right for the two of them.

"OK, sounds good to me," Faith answered for him again.

"I, we, well we haven't discussed this, Faith."

"OK, trial period then. If we don't like it, then we blow."

Giles smiled at the slayer, knowing that she would probably get her way.

"That might be acceptable. Not like we can stay here. Let's just get through the spell and we'll discuss it."

"Sure," Faith acquiesced.

Wesley performed the spell without much effort, with Giles assisting him. When it was finished Faith looked a little green around the face, for which she promptly ran for the bathroom. Going after her, he waited until she had emptied the contents of her stomach before knocking on the door.

"OK, now that officially sucked," she told him as he opened the door.

Running some water, he handed her a wet washcloth to wipe her face. As she rinsed her mouth, he just stood back until she gathered herself together.

"Better?" he asked her quietly.

"Yeah. Let's just hope it worked."

"A test then?"

Faith swung out and put a deep hole in the bathroom wall. She grinned back to him.

"Nice spell. Just next time tell me if I'm gonna barf."

"Giles's fault. Not my spell."

"I could spar with him?"

"Faith," he warned her.

"OK, so I won't break him. I so wanted to, though. So you OK with the set-up?"

Wesley didn't know if he was. He would have to play it by ear to see if it really would work.

"We will see. Are you?"

"You'll be there. So it'll be fine. Partners?"

Faith put her hand out to shake. He took her warm hand into his. If he wasn't mistaken, a slight spark passed between them. But he must have been mistaken, because Faith just smiled at him like she had just won the lottery.

* * *

"So those are my choices? I don't just get to pick from anyone?"

Why oh why did Cordelia have to explain this every time someone had to choose. It wasn't like it was rocket science or anything. Or was it for Fred?

"Yep. That's it."

Fred immediately pointed to the one on the far left.

"Oh, honey. Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Definitely. He really does need help. I mean, look at him. He's lost his way."

"How come she got better choices than I did?" Lindsey complained.

"Because she's a nice person, you nitwit. You weren't, need I remind you. You need so much work, Lindsey. And if you screw this one up."

"I know. It's back to the paperwork dimension. Please, no Lilah."

Cordelia truly wished that Wesley had come back to her. Doyle was her friend and Fred was at one point, but her bond with Wes was unbreakable. He understood her like no other did, besides Angel.

"So, what do we do now?" Fred asked.

"You watch. And you learn. And you read the damn book."

"Are you gonna keep remindin' people about it? I really am sorry, sweetheart," Doyle pleaded.

"Yeah. I'm not hearing it, you dork."

Cordelia waved a book into existence in front of the two new recruits.

"A book?" Lindsey asked, not wanting to take on the task.

"Oh, good. A book. And I thought I'd just have ta go at this without anythin'. This is great."

"Good. Maybe I can crib off the smart girl," Lindsey mumbled.

"OK, Fred. Can you see him?" Doyle asked her.

Fred looked at the picture that Cordelia had revealed. "He looks so sad. What do I do? He can't stay that way for long."

"Just be careful," Cordelia answered.

"We don't want to be saddled with someone like Lindsey again," Doyle said out the side of his mouth so only Cordelia could hear.

So that had been their punishment for all the things that had gone wrong this last time. They needed to reform Lindsey. Which meant, they couldn't screw up or something even worse would happen, like Lilah coming back. That just made Cordelia want to puke.

"He learned the brooding from the best, Fred."

"Oh, yeah. You're right. Hey, you need to take care of Mr. Broody Pants too."

Cordelia knew she needed to speak with Angel. But just watching Fred, starting off on a new adventure, being where she should be, made her feel just wonderful. She didn't want to ruin the mood by talking with the damn vampire.

"You take care of your vampire. I'll take care of mine."

The End


End file.
